


Starling Syndrome

by delinquentdee



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternative Universe - No Arrow, Alternative Universe - No Island, F/M, Gen, Thea Queen & Felicity Smoak Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-02-08 20:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delinquentdee/pseuds/delinquentdee
Summary: Thea Queen is an unavoidable migraine with legs. If Felicity Smoak knew just what a headache the heiress would cause her, she would never have stepped foot in that cafe. At which Thea would remind her that not getting coffee that morning would have lead to a headache anyway.





	1. Coffee Date With Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made little outfit boards that are listed at the end. Kind of a spoiler if you check them out first before you read, but I'm not your mother ;)

Thea Queen is pit of quicksand.

That sounds like quip taken from a rag mag. Normally, you'd find vicious headlines about Thea Queen next to the Tic-Tacs and last minute _I’m not buying that-_ s at the conveyor belt of your local grocery store.  Instead,here it’s used as a loving and alarmingly fitting metaphor that Felicity Smoak has spent a long time crafting.

Thea is a real shock to those who have never met her. Just imagine walking along a beach only to be stuck in the grasp of a liquidy, yet solid, substance that you assumed would be just like the rest of the beach. That is how Felicity felt when she first met the young heiress.

The momentous first encounter, long before any analogies to natural disasters, was at a cafe. Felicity recognized Thea immediately, something that she isn’t comfortable admitting to her friend, no matter how close they became. Recognition is more than just placing a face with a name in this instance. Thea's face had been printed on glossy magazines, looking perfectly made up and precise, but was also been plastered on the impulse buy "magazines", with running mascara and smudged lipstick. The public had seen  a number of different versions of the heiress. Perhaps that’s why Felicity was quick to identify her face in the crowded Jitters cafe that morning.

While waiting patiently in line with the rest of the pre-coffee zombies, Felicity was staring purposely to her left, avoiding the sharp beam of light reflecting off the shop’s metallic counter. As a somewhat firm guideline, Felicity liked to avoid any migraine inducing activity before her first cup of coffee for the day. She would have loved nothing more than to make that a strict rule, but Google knows it has been, and will be, broken every once in awhile- especially if idiots text her with "work emergencies" at 4:10 in the morning.

The direction of Felicity’s gaze was important, not because it led to a crick in the neck, but because Thea Queen sat casually at the little bistro table where Felicity’s gaze was currently drawn. People watching can be a nice hobby in the spring while sitting on a bench during your lunch break, but this was a small cafe. And this particular morning, all the patrons of Jitters took their coffees to go. That left Thea to be the only one occupying the many tables littering the shop. There's a difference between casually watching a crowd in a public setting and staring at an individual while they're just trying to live their lives. People watching =/= person watching.

Felicity watched the young woman as casually as she could without staring intently. Even though Felicity was watching Thea less for the, “watch a celebrity do normal stuff, just like us!”, and more as a way to pass time, she didn’t want to be caught by anyone who might think she was starstruck and obsessed.

In her Casual Gaze™ Felicity noticed that Thea’s eyes were surveying the floor near the line of people waiting to hear a botched version of their name read off a cup.  At first, Felicity followed the path Thea’s eyes took, thinking that maybe the heiress saw a rodent or bug. After a quick check herself, logic kicked in and reminded her that Thea Queen would most likely be gone if she saw a critter.

Felicity, brainstorming for reasons why anyone would want to stare at the feet of coffee lovers early in the morning, came up with something that finally clicked. Thea’s own feet were propped up on the bar under the seat across from her. As a shoe connoisseur herself, Felicity noticed that Thea’s boots were probably more expensive than her own entire outfit- even if the cashier were to accidentally ring up the dress six times.

Felicity’s mind worked in the same way it did in geometry class when writing proofs.

  1. Thea Queen is a trendy woman.
  2. Trendy women like fashion.
  3. Fashion includes, but is not limited to clothes.
  4. People wear clothes.
  5. Looking at clothes on people can be misconstrued as checking people out.
  6. Looking at shoes is inconspicuous.



           ∴    Thea is checking out people’s shoes.

Felicity wondered if perhaps Thea was just rating each pair of shoes, or if she were using the footwear to decipher something about the person donning them. Back in her lowly IT stooge days, Felicity would play a version of that game herself. Felicity is on the smaller side, but not short, because short is used for children under 12 that annoy you, and men breaking you out of a cell dressed in a stormtrooper uniform. But being small means that you are eclipsed by desks, chairs, and the odd cardboard box of spare parts when you’re fixing wires on the floor. If there’s anything a stuffed suit hates, it’s waiting. Time is money. So when they are looking for an IT member to help them no doubt turn off a computer and turn it on again to solve any myriad of problems they most likely have, they want that advice to be given immediately. From her spot on the floor, Felicity would be able to guess straight away if the wearer would shout a greeting or get nasty immediately when they couldn’t spot her.

While thinking somewhat fondly of her old pastimes, Felicity didn’t notice Thea’s surveying eyes come closer and closer to her own black flats with kitties on them.

A louder than usual shout for Adam’s large raspberry green tea and a much much lower grumble of, "I _t’s Autumn,"_ caught Felicity’s attention, turning her head right back into the miserably blinding reflection once more. Felicity turned her head and gaze to the left again in time to notice the scrunched up eyebrows of Thea Queen who was most definitely staring at her feet.

It had been a long time since Felicity felt this self conscious. She could feel herself blushing with embarrassment at Thea Queen’s less than pleasant assessment with her shoes. _But why?_ Rationally, Felicity knew that Thea’s opinion meant nothing. Felicity actually adored these shoes. And taste is entirely subjective. And really, what were the odds that she would ever see Thea Queen again? Or that if she did see her, she would remember her shoes. Or that her shoes were so terribly atrocious that Thea would mention them in a conversation with the rest of Starling’s elite. And it’s not like Thea would one day go to a fashion show in Milan and turn to Jean-Paul Gaultier and say, “I once saw this woman in ridiculously puerile kitten flats.” Nor would he respond, “Quelle folie! Let’s look at real fashion to bleach our eyes of such a disaster.” And even if that were to happen, it doesn’t matter because she will never see Thea Queen again and will never be privy to any conversations she might have. Plus, how sad for them that they have amazing lives and they could be enjoying it and instead they are wasting their breath on a woman whose name they didn’t even know.

“Felicity’s Triple Shot Cappuccino!”

So much for not knowing her name. The one time a barista gets it right is the one time she would like to stay incognito.

Felicity navigated her way to the counter to grab her drink, avoiding the huffs of people annoyed that their own beverages weren't completed yet. She made her way to the milk and sugar table with her head down, trying to tell herself that her name being taken down correctly meant that today was going to be a good day.

She was too focused on popping her lid off and locating the cinnamon shaker that she didn’t notice Thea Queen make her way to the station as well, casually flipping her cup in the bin.

“I’m more of a nutmeg girl, myself,” Thea said. Her chin jutting out in the direction of the cup.

Felicity surprised herself by not jumping at the unexpected human contact. Specifically this human. This pretty-tall-French designer on speed dial- human.

“Allergic to nuts actually.” Not that nutmeg is a tree nut. It's actually a seed. But Felicity always felt nervous to eat something that had 'nut' in the name. And no need to explain her neuroses to a stranger. She gave Thea as much of a smile as she could muster. Was Thea trying to compile more information to joke with Jean-Paul about? She’d seen _Mean Girls._

_“Naomi how can she be allergic to nuts when you would HAVE to be nuts to wear those shoes in public?”_ And then Kate Moss would come with a flute of champagne and tell them all that Iman arrived.

A quick look out of the corner of her eyes let Felicity know that Thea was still there, standing  with her hip to the counter, staring at Felicity with a genuine looking smile.

“What about chocolate scrapings?” It seemed that they were now in _Heathers_ lunchtime poll territory. And Felicity was trying to remember other high school bullying movies.

“I once saw a kid licking the top of the chocolate shaker and I have not been able to pick one up again since.” Thea’s face scrunched up not _entirely_ unlike how she looked at Felicity’s shoes.  “I realize that he probably licked the cinnamon too, but since I didn’t catch him do it, I feel like I’m safe.”

Thea let out a little chuckle. “I could’ve used you about twenty minutes ago before I suffocated my coffee in nutmeg and chocolate.”

“To be fair, it was at a Starbucks. And Jill is like super diligent about cleaning here. So you won’t have to worry about the cooties.”

Felicity was answering as politely as she could, trying hard to pop the lid back on without adding a lovely coffee stain to her coat. She wanted to evacuate before the inevitable, “Have fun in preschool,” joke could come out. Or something like that. Cut Felicity some slack. She was never on the giving end of a well executed burn about clothes.

Just as Felicity went to grab some napkins, the dreaded words came out of Thea’s mouth. “Your shoes…”

Felicity paused, hand on the dispenser as if when she stopped moving everything would stop. The words would die on Thea’s lips and her ego would remain intact.

“Match my bag,” Thea continued.

Thea pulled the red strap off her arm and pushed the red bag forward.

Sure enough the red cat’s face on the top of the purse matched the two kitties on her feet in black.

“It seems Fred and George have a big brother.” Felicity said while wiggling her toes beneath the covering. She stopped doing it almost immediately once she realized what came out of her mouth. She spent the majority of their interaction prepared for a criticism of her shoes and now that she got a compliment? Maybe? Sorta? Matching a famous heiress is kind of saying they have a similar style and by the commutative property if Thea is trendy and wears the same catware as her then she’s trendy too? But now that she avoided being made fun of, here she went and told Thea Queen that she named her fake shoe cats after Harry Potter characters. It’s like she held up a sign that said, “Give me noogies and push me in a locker.” No matter how widely accepted the wizarding world was, it could still be seen as creeping itself into cringe territory to name her shoes.

The blush was back. Of course it was.

But beyond the ringing in her ears from mortification, she heard Thea’s voice.

“Arthur Weasley has some explaining to do if Reginald is Fred and George’s brother.” She was petting her purse as if it were a real cat propped up on the counter.

She grabbed "Reginald" and with a smile threw out a, “See you later, Felicity,” and waved over her shoulder. Leaving just as smoothly as she arrived. But instead of an embarrassed Felicity Smoak abandoned in Thea's wake, she left a bewildered and somewhat impressed Felicity instead. Maybe Thea Queen wasn’t filled with _Cruel Intentions._

Sure enough Felicity did see Thea the next morning. And just like the previous day she popped over with a smile and a compliment. That’s all it really took to capture Felicity Smoak in the Thea Queen quicksand vat. An unexpected step that sunk her.

Now there she was. Three years later and best friends with a woman she was worried was going to bully her about her clothes. That’s not to say Thea wasn’t a bully. It’s just that these days she hid her bullying behind the guise of a best friend wanting “what’s best” for Felicity.

With a sigh, Felicity rubbed her temples, listening to Thea complain about the same thing she has all week.

“I just find it offensive that you didn’t tell me you were open to dating your friends’ brothers. I would have offered Ollie up AGES before Melissa’s stupid brother Greg. It’s like I wasn’t even considered. And that hurts me as a friend.”

If only Felicity had a stick to pull herself out of the sand trap. Or a literal stick to beat her best friend with.

 

 

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/140110339@N06/27025066117/in/dateposted-friend/)Thea

[](https://www.flickr.com/gp/140110339@N06/s99ZRE) Felicity

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a suuuuper slow day at work so this somehow popped out? Anyway, apologies for the terrible math comparisons. I suck at math, specifically geometry, so that proof is likely terrible. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and hopefully you want more!
> 
> Edit: This chapter had to be edited because I wrote Felicity as being allergic to nutmeg because I thought it was made from nuts? Anyway it's fixed.
> 
> Edit 2 (first post in 2019 woohoo): If you've read this before, i have one question: HOW? This was so badly edited. I'm slowly working on editing it now. Making it less atrocious to read. Still the same plotless bullshit, but hopefully easier to read and with less grammar issues. (in this chapter, at least).


	2. Lashing of the Whip and Tongue Kind.

 

Felicity occupied herself by taking a long sip of her coffee. Might as well enjoy her beverage while it was still hot. Thea continued to complain. There was no way she was going to allow Felicity to defend herself yet. It had been the same situation since Thea found out Felicity met Greg Martin for lunch. She would call Felicity up, yell a bit, and when Felicity tried to explain the situation, Thea would interrupt and say how she’s not ready to talk. That was a week ago. The steam had to run out sometime.

“But really, can you imagine my shock when Melissa- MELISSA- comes over to me bragging about you and Greg.”

Thea blinked at Felicity. It wasn't the instinctual blink necessary for the health of your eyes. It was a drawn out opening and closing of her eyelids. A slow-mo blink. Her downturned chin made her eyes look even larger than they were. Not to mention the sharp stare when her eyes _were_ open. Thea was ensuring that even when she wasn’t speaking that her body continued to tell Felicity,  _I'm_   _mad_.

“And you know how I feel about bragging, Felicity. It was oozing out of her before she even opened her mouth.” Thea balled up the empty sugar packet on the table and flicked it towards Felicity. It didn’t make contact, surprisingly.

“Imagine me, walking through the cereal aisle when Melissa ‘I Got My Period Before You’ Martin crashes her squeaky wheeled cart into mine.” Thea put on a falsetto mocking tone.  “Oh hi, Thea! I was meaning to call you.” She changed back to her normal irritated voice. “I was expecting her to tell me she was finally organizing her own fundraiser or  something, and you know what, I was going to be happy for her, too. So here I am with my guard down and POW,"

Felicity spilled some of her drink at Thea’s unexpected interjection.

Thea didn't waver. She continued on, "Melissa punches me in the throat with the shittiest news I could never have even expected.”

Felicity reached out to grab a napkin from the middle of the table, only for Thea’s ridiculously superior reflexes to seize them first. It was clear that Thea wasn’t going to let her have a napkin. Like a child. A big ol' baby who took her frustration out by hoarding napkins in a moment of need. 

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Really?”

“Oh, so you’re allowed to withhold things from me but I can’t do the same to you? Maybe you should write the rules of our friendship out so that I won’t be made a fool of any more.”

Thea finally pushed the pile of napkins forward, visibly pleased that she was able to throw out that line about withholding. 

The falsetto was back. “I was meaning to ask how Felicity thought the date with Greg went.”

She crossed her arms, leaning them on the table. “She spoke to me like I knew what was going on, and the worst part was that it wasn’t an act. She wasn’t trying to hold knowledge over me. She was only riding on the high of hooking you up with Greg.”

“A lunch date isn’t a hookup, Thea.”

“I didn’t know that, Fe-lic-it-y. All I knew was that my best friend went out with Greg Martin and didn’t tell me. So I had to play it off. I told her that you didn’t say much and went on about how hard you’ve been working. Maybe threw in a bit about how little free time you have. Though in retrospect that might have made her think that Greg is in.” She threw her hands in her hair. “Oh God, now she thinks you took time out of your busy schedule just for him. Even Tony the Tiger was laughing at me from the aisle.”

“You’re assuming that Greg had positive feedback about our date.”

Thea’s head popped up. A wicked smile on her face. “Was it the shittiest date ever?”

“You would rather me have a date from hell than a nice date with Greg Martin?”

“I would rather you tell me that you are going on a date with your friend’s brother.”

“Melissa is your friend, Thea.”

“You’re digging your hole deeper.” Thea sucked her teeth. “Before she left she was like, ‘Girls like Felicity make older brothers so much more bearable.’”

Felicity’s face scrunched up in pure confusion. “What does that even mean? Because it sounds like a dig at me, but I’m not entirely sure.”

Thea slumped in her seat. “It was a jab at me.” She gave a small pout. “ I used to complain about the girls Ollie dated. It was her call back to a conversation we had where we mentioned how worried we were that our brothers would marry women who called us stupid pet names and infantilized us.”

Felicity leaned over the table to rub Thea’s arm. “Oh sweetie, you’ll see there’s so much worse that could happen in life.”

“Fuck off,” Thea laughed, elbowing Felicity’s hand away.

“Well the good news is that I will not be marrying Greg Martin.”

“I am very happy to hear that. How did you even get roped into a lunch date with Greg?”

Felicity rubbed her eyes beneath her glasses. “She happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

Thea did that slow blinking thing again. “What code breaker do I have to employ to decipher that little quip?”

Felicity bit her lip before speaking. It was clear she was stalling. “She heard me say that I needed a date.”

Thea threw her hands up. “I can get you a date, Felicity! You don’t have to go to the black market.”

“Believe it or not, I can get a date for myself, too.”

One perfectly threaded eyebrow raised. “Then why did you go through Melissa for a date?”

Felicity put her coffee down, pointing at a finger with each point she made. “Melissa brought up the Starling City Library function next week. She said something about preparing her boyfriend to hold her clutch for the night.”

Thea rolled her eyes. “He’s a man, not a coathanger.”

Felicity held her tongue and didn’t mention Thea’s habit of doing the same exact thing with Roy, and continued on, “I mentioned how I was going alone and she somehow got me to admit that I wanted to bring a date.”

Thea’s finger flicked up. “See, this is where I have a problem. I didn’t even know you wanted to date. You’ve been throwing that ‘single and happy about it’ stuff around.”

Felicity shrugged. “I guess I didn’t realize it until she brought up. I told her that I wasn’t interested in my occasional ‘Rent-a-Date’ thing. Besides, Barry and Iris are back together, so there’s one less man on call. She then offered meeting her brother for lunch so that we could know each other and possibly go to the event together.”

“She just doesn’t want to watch her brother being groped in public. Siblings shouldn’t have to see that.”

“You and Roy pawing at each other is different, how?”

“Roy is long haul, and that makes a difference. Plus we don’t paw. Pawing is for people who haven’t seen your puke face and avoid pooping around you.”

Felicity nodded to the melody playing in her head. “Some say love, it is a shitter, that you’re not scared to use.”

“Brilliant. You’re a tiny, blonde Weird Al.” Thea started grabbing empty packets and swiping stray sugar into her hand.  “I have to go see a man about some bottles. You coming?”

Gathering her own garbage, Felicity responded, “Is this more toilet humor, or?”

“The toilet humor will continue until I get to give you a swirly.”

The two women cleaned their table, and with a wave to Jill behind the counter they exited to the street.

“Do I need to worry about whiplash any more?”

Digging through her purse for her keys, Thea scoffed. “You jolted from my hard hitting words alone. There was no problem with my driving.”

The women entered the car, Felicity with way less hesitancy than when she got into the car earlier this morning.

“I’m not furious anymore. Still kind of hurt, but I am a strong woman.”

Felicity fought her eye roll, instead resulting in an eye twitch. “I’m sure this must be difficult for you, but with time and effort, you too can overcome this.”

Thea hummed in agreement.

“What does Roy think about this little freakout of yours?” There was no way Thea didn’t complain about Felicity’s lack of press conference over a meaningless lunch date.

“He’s irritated with you, too. So don’t try that ‘Thea is overreacting’ bullcrap.”

Felicity’s head snapped towards Thea. So much for not worrying about whiplash. “What the hell does he have to be annoyed about?”

“He thinks Greg is a prick and you can do better than him.”

“To be a fly on your wall,” Felicity said lacking the wistfulness that is usually inserted with that phrase. “How did my love life,” at this particular turn of phrase Thea shrieked, “Lunchlife!”.

“How did my _lunchlife_ come into conversation with Roy? Because I’m imagining you pulling out a notepad of complaints and ticking them off over dinner, Roy just nodding and trying to watch the seasonal sports game over your shoulder.”

“He caught the tail end of Melanie preening her feathers. Wanted to know why she was skipping down the aisle. I saw him Googling smoke signals, because the only form of communication I could give was the steam coming out of my ears.”

“I appreciate your unexaggerated retelling of events. Still, I had no idea that I was skip material, even in your little fantasy world.”

“When you have a brother and have to watch him date, and I use that term about as loose as a first grader’s tooth, you want to see him settle down with a girl like you.”

Felicity shook her head in annoyance. “Are we only friends because of my value as a dream sister-in-law? Because you’re kind of pissing me off now. I have worth beyond being someone’s wife.”

Thea veered to the side of the road unexpectedly, cars beeping behind her. In the back seat of the car, a pair of newly purchased shoes slid off the seat and smashed to the floor.

Amid the honks and swears flying around them, Thea grabbed Felicity’s hand.

“I love you. So much.” One particularly long honk was doing its best to silence anything Thea was going to add.

“FUCK OFF WE’RE HAVING A MOMENT,” she screamed through the closed window as the car sped off.

Thea turned back to Felicity, sincerity clear in her face. “I am so thankful that we met. And I know it seems like I’m semi-obsessed,” at Felicity’s quirked up eyebrow she changed her assessment, “Okay I’ve got a one track mind about this. Clearly, I’m not explaining my feelings well enough, and I don’t know how to make this better.”

“You _do_ see how this is frustrating to me too, right?”

“Totally. And to clarify, I’m saying that Felicity Smoak is amazing, and I’m not saying that Felicity Smoak is the kind of woman you hold on the back burner until you’re in your mid 30s and need to settle down.”

“Thea, I love you too, but the next time you try to give someone a pep talk on their self worth, please for the love of Google, put more emphasis on positive traits they _have_.”

“Felicity, you’re so god damn intelligent.”

“Thank you.”

“And stunning.”

“Good.”

“You always manage to know a little something about _everything._ ”

“Flattering.”

“You’re good at finding shortcuts.”

“Okay, you’re done.”

She was, in fact, not done.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this seems to be going in a direction of its own. But of course, I don't outline or make my life easier in any way. If you're still on board for reading this story, thanks! Have a great weekend :)
> 
> lightly edited 29 january 2019.


	3. Club Dread

Thea is full of … quirks. Felicity can imagine a rather large gathering of people around her glass house, each with safety goggles to keep them safe while she throws stones.

Felicity has her own little peculiarities, babbling no doubt topping the list, but she never had the wealth to turn her “weird” into “eccentric”. It is always a treat when she is reminded that Thea is a precious little weirdo. Felicity watches as Thea grabs both doors to Verdant, pulling them towards herself and walking through the middle. Keeping to the right is not a concept she’s all too familiar with, preferring to be dead center. It might explain the fear any passenger in her car experiences. Push doors are always more of a treat to watch, though. Felicity decided long ago that the spirit of John Wayne got stuck in her body. Fighting out against the ultra femininity that is Thea Queen, the only way for him to be reminded of his old life is to enter and exit every establishment as if it’s a set on a Western film. Felicity is just waiting for the day that there is a vertical beam separating the two doors to see if reflexes will beat out muscle memory.

Thea shouted to the empty club as if she were contending with hordes of people and music. “TOOOOMMY!”.

Wincing, Felicity felt the need to remind Thea of facts she should know.“There’s a thing called a cell phone. Handy little doodad that connects you with people.”

“You’ll have to speak up, Felicity. You’re competing against the blood pouring out of my ears.” Tommy walked up from behind them, shouting but not rupturing ear drums.

“I think my surname attracts drama Queens. Where’s that invoice?” Tommy pointed behind the bar to a bill.

“We’re the dramatic ones, huh?” Tommy asked Felicity. She shook her head, clearly exasperated. “She wouldn’t let me talk to her for a week. Would just call, yell, and hang up.”

Thea, still examining the invoice, responded to the accusations. “Tommy, your best friend gets set up with a fundamental knobhead and doesn’t tell you. You have to hear about it in a grocery store. What’s your reaction?”

“Who’s the knobhead?”

“Greg Martin.”

He winced. “Why would you do that to yourself?”

Felicity took a seat at the bar, “Something strong, please. I’m too weak to deal with her _and_ you.”

Tommy laughed. “Don’t put me in the same box as her. Greg being a prick is an objective fact uninfluenced by Melissa Martin and her pool party.”

Felicity perked up at that. “Are you this obsessed with Greg because Melissa didn’t invite you to a pool party.”

Tommy snorted, which broke Thea’s gaze from the paper to give him a two second glare. She must've thought it was effective enough because she returned to the invoice “I told you that Melissa bragged about getting her period first.” Unable to see where the conversation was headed, Felicity nodded. “Yeah?”

“Well, I ended up lying about finally getting it and had to continue the lie at a pool party. I asked Laurel some tampon questions, which Tommy thought was hilarious.”

“That is a complete oversimplification. She lied about it, Melissa caught her in her lie and Thea ended up calling Oliver from a bathroom begging him to bring her tampons. I think there was something about taping a tampon string in her bathing suit.”

“She never caught on, for the record.”

Felicity was intrigued by the thought process of a pre-pubescent Thea Queen.

“I called Ollie asking him for some tampons. He freaked out and called Laurel. I have no idea how Tommy got involved, but all I know is that the three of them showed up at the Martin’s. I asked Laurel some questions, like how often I should go to the bathroom to give the appearance of changing a tampon and other menstrual related questions.”

Felicity laughed. “You really go the distance. And may I commend you, Tommy, for being so open to uterine talk.”

“I wear many hats, Felicity. I’m a real Jack of all trades.”

Thea’s phone came to life on the bar. Millie Smalls’ _My Boy Lollipop_ rang out. She answered it without breaking contact with what must be the most important bill in the history of club-kind.

“Come in. I’m here, I parked on the side.”

She continued making sounds of affirmation and single syllable words.

“Learning about young Thea shouldn’t surprise me, but somehow it does.” Felicity watched as Tommy hopped on the bar, swinging his feet like a little boy.

“From the moment she kicked Oliver’s face from within the womb, I knew she was gonna be a real pain.”

Thea looked up to see Roy walk through the door. Singular door, unlike his girlfriend.

“Roy, they’re being mean.”

He gave a nod to Tommy and Felicity and then a quick peck on his girlfriend’s lips. “Stop being mean.” He lacked any aggression or emotion. “See, all fixed.”

“My hero,” Thea said dryly.

“You,” he jutted his chin towards Felicity. “How was the date with baked egg Greg?”

Felicity looked to Thea with exhaustion. “Oh bartender, still waiting on that strong drink.” She dropped her head to the bar top.

Roy leaned over patting her head affectionately. “If you tell me it was a good date, I promise I’ll never bring it up again.”

She could only groan in response.

Roy very visibly showed his glee at her anguish. “The plot thickens. Where did he take you?”

“We met for lunch at that diner on George Street.” She picked her head up in time to watch as Roy cupped his hands around his mouth. “We have a code beige! Bland alert.” Tommy held his nose and added unnecessary muted siren noises, twirling his finger slowly over his head like fake lights. To clarify, the siren in general was unnecessary; Roy doesn’t need a hype man to be a clown. The nose-plugging bland sirens, however were quite appropriate considering that Greg was so dull that regular sirens would suggest he was capable of enthusiasm.

Felicity sighed. “I’d like to argue with you, Roy, but you’re even more unbearable when you know you’re right.”

“I wasn’t always like this. Thea’s influence is very potent."

“I was thrown so far off. When I pictured Melissa’s brother I kind of expected her but in male form," Felicity said, thinking back on how the image in her head of pre-date Greg.

Roy’s eyebrows tried their hardest to add themselves to his hairline. “So your big ol’ MIT brain said, ‘You know, if that brat Melissa Martin had a dick, I’d date her’?”

Felicity put her hands up. “I didn’t go out with any intention of getting a date with Greg, okay? Melissa brought up the Library function and found out I was going solo. Then she started talking about her brother and before I knew it, I agreed to go out with him.”

Tommy spoke through a mouthful of cherries from behind the bar. “How can someone as aggressive as Melissa be related to someone with the personality of a rock like Greg?”

Roy reached for some cherries. “Let’s not be so critical on rocks.”

Tommy chewed slowly.“Boring as dirt? Or is geology as a whole too exciting for him?” He picked up a pair of cherries attached together at the stem, offering it to Roy.

Ripping his half from the stem, Roy said, “He’s like those remote batteries that are nearly dead.”

Tommy closed his eyes, nodding in agreement. They clinked their cherries together, pleased that they came up with an accurate description.

“If you have to shake your remote every time you want to turn up the volume, those batteries are done and you need to throw them out,” Tommy said through the chewed up cherries.

Thea folded up the invoice. “That’s deep, Tommy. Both of you have enlightened us. If you could alert us the next time the Council of Wise Men convenes, we’d be grateful.”

She shook the paper. “Did you email this bonehead?”

Tommy gave her a thumbs up. “Sure did. Wise men tend to make good decisions.”

Felicity’s phone buzzed on the bartop. The loud vibration caught everyone’s attention, drawing their eyes to the screen displaying a text from Greg.

Felicity lightly gasped. “I made it very clear that I thought it was not a good idea to pursue anything with him.”

Thea snatched it up, wasting no time in reading his message.

“Any interest in being my guest at the Library event next Saturday?”

Roy snarled. “His guest?”

Tommy tilted his head. “Is guest a step up from plus one?”

Roy threw his maraschino stained napkin at Tommy. “Who gives a fuck? It’s a downgrade from Felicity’s own invitation and seat next to people with clout.”

Thea started tapping away. “I don’t think it’s a great idea Greg. I’ll have to hang around with investors all night. Sure to be super boring for you. Thanks, though.”

“That was way nicer than I expected,” Felicity said.

“Too nasty and he might take it as a challenge.”

He texted back straight away. “I just thought I should offer.”

Thea rolled her eyes. “Remind me to ask Mom to shake Mrs. Martin down for donations.”

“All I’m imagining is Moira physically grabbing Elaine, Mario Party style. N64 days. Remember that minigame where you shake each other?” Tommy mimed rattling a bag of coins on Roy’s back.

While Roy tried to dodge Tommy’s hands, Felicity laughed at not only the idea of Moira physically taking money from Mrs. Martin, but also the thought of Moira Queen anywhere near an N64. Was she the kind of mother that called any and all game systems ‘The Nintendo’?

Felicity's inner questioning made its way out. “Is Moira more of a Peach or Daisy? And dibs on Yoshi while we’re at it.”

“I’ll ask her tonight over dinner. You should come,” Thea said with a smirk. “Tell her all about Greg and remind her just how important computers are for libraries.”

“My money’s on Wario,” Tommy said while checking his phone distractedly. “I’m gonna be late to meet Laurel if I don’t leave now. See you guys later, and Felicity,” she looked questioningly at him. “Try not to date any blockheads while I’m gone.”

“I didn’t date him, I went _on_ a date. And it was more like a speed date than anything,” she yelled at his retreating form.

“If it’s blockheads you’re into I have one who’s supposed to be here in twenty minutes.” Felicity turned to her friend, giving her a properly annoyed look. Shame it was wasted on Thea who was tapping on her phone.

“Thea, you need to stop trying to pair me off with Oliver.”

“Who said anything about Oliver? I have a shipment coming in by this idiot who has no idea how to count.”

Felicity let out a weak, “Oh.”

“You have to admit it was a bit ambiguous, babe.”

Thea frowned. “That’s my brother you’re talking about. He’s a loveable bonehead if anything.”

Felicity turned to Roy, excited at the prospect of someone on her side. “You heard about Thea trying to pimp me out to Oliver?”

Thea perked up. “HEY! If anything, it’s Oliver I’m trying to pimp out to you. And I’m not a pimp. I’m a matchmaker. Let’s think of this logically.” Roy braced himself. This was a list he heard many times since the run in with Melissa Martin.

“You’re my best friend. We talk about sex. It’s a given. Why would I try and hook you up with Oliver for purely carnal reasons?  Like, why would I put myself in that position?”

“Thea if I knew how your mind works, I’d probably have to be committed somewhere.”

“You don’t even realize the damage Oliver has done to me. Just the other day I was remembering when I first had Poptarts, because my mother _never_ let us have junk like that. I was sitting at the table munching away and Oliver’s ‘friend’ was quietly leaving the house. He was like, ‘Oh my friend Jess had to crash last night’ and I didn’t question it. For years, even after I learned all about sex! It’s like watching a kids’ movie years later and realizing all the dirty jokes that went over your head.”

Felicity adjusted her glasses. “Thea. I love you, but I have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“Your sex life interests me because you’re my bestie. I want you to have fabulous sex.”

“Your Dr. Ruth tendencies are not new to me, Thea.”

“Exactly!” She looked frenzied. “The thought of Ollie’s sex life slightly nauseates me. I mean, sex is great. Have it responsibly. Don’t be ashamed of it. But he’s my brother. I feel the same way about my parents and sex. Why would I try to hook you up if I thought it would only result in sex? We wouldn’t even be able to discuss anything. This is not for my benefit!”

Roy moved to run Thea’s shoulders. “See Felicity, purely altruistic.”

Felicity raised one eyebrow, unable to be moved by Thea’s attempt at persuasion. “I thought your benefit would be Oliver dating someone you already know?”

Thea rolled her eyes and let out a caveman grunt. It probably took a lot of effort to not stamp her foot too.

“I’m not gonna lie and say that isn’t a part of it. But it’s so tiny. Microscopic compared to the fact that the two of you would be great together.”

Felicity looked to Roy for some support. She looked to the man rubbing Thea’s shoulders in an attempt to calm her down and expected him to jump ship and suddenly come to her defense.

“Am I so bad that everyone always thinks I have an ulterior motive?”

MAYDAY MAYDAY! THEA IS ATTEMPTING TO PULL AT THE HEARTSTRINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION!

“I trust your intentions, but sometimes it doesn’t always work out. Like that time you told me I would love that chicken platter thing at The Roaster. Or that movie you made me watch that you, quote, couldn’t stop laughing at.”

Thea’s phone emitted a familiar ringtone alerting everyone that a video chat was requested.

“Look at that. His ears must’ve been ringing.” Thea swiped to answer straight away. “Hold on,” she said walking to her purse. “I have to plug you in. I can’t charge my phone purely with my bad choices.”

Felicity and Roy heard the two chatting away on the other side of the room where she plugged the phone in.

“She really does think you two will work out, for what it’s worth.”

“I don’t doubt it. But she also used to think that her parents would get back together. Great intentions, not enough gathering of information.”

Roy did a mixture of a nod and a shrug, not committing to an agreement or disagreement. “Would you consider just going for a singular date with him? I mean you went out with Greg Martin. You could handle a single date with Oliver.”

Felicity's eyes narrowed. “Where’s this coming from. I thought you of everybody would be trying to get her to see my side.”

He gave a pure shrug at that.

Unimpressed by his answer, she continued. “Why are you assuming Oliver would want to go out on a date with me? He doesn’t know me. I’m Thea’s friend who he occasionally bumps into. I know Tommy way better than him, and I don’t even know Tommy that well. For all Oliver knows I’m Thea two point oh.”

“Why are you assuming Oliver wouldn’t want to go out with you,” Roy challenged. “Apart from the obvious,” He tacked on.

“Obvious,” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re so far out of his league.”

Felicity blushed lightly. Roy was always good for a ego boost. The sharp jawline and cut body is armor to protect his soft heart.

“Why do I want to date someone who’s gonna cheat on me then?”

“I said you’re out of his league, I never said that he’s a piece of shit.”

They stared at each other, Felicity trying to work out Roy’s angle on this dating fiasco and Roy refusing to reveal anything. He broke first, changing the subject. “Come outside and help me with the idiot delivery guy. He’s gonna be here in a minute.”

She followed him outside watching as a delivery truck pulled up. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you should take your luck to Vegas.”

Roy snorted. “It’s not luck. I heard that shitty muffler from down the street.”

Felicity got to see firsthand the infamous delivery guy, Rick. She watched him nearly close his hand in the door and listened to him tell Roy about nearly running over a squirrel. Roy handed her a piece of paper while Rick opened the back of the truck up.

“Go give this to Thea while I babysit.”

When she got inside again, she heard Thea whining. “Ollieeeeee. If you don’t come to dinner you are removed from this family.”

“So if I don’t come tonight, I am not required to go to any more family dinners?”

Felicity laughed softly from behind her. Thea turned quickly. Felicity lifted the bill up in her hand. “Roy gave me this.”

Thea groaned taking the paper. “I swear, five year olds could do this. Compare the two lists and make sure they’re the same, Rick! Where’s the other invoice?”

Felicity pointed to the bar where the paper that Thea was obsessed with before was laying.

“Hold on.” She handed the phone to a deer in the headlights Felicity and went to the bar to take the paper. Felicity held the cell phone with a stiff arm, her eyes tracking Thea’s every move and most definitely not looking at Oliver on the screen at all. “I’ll be right back,” she called out, leaving Felicity on the phone with Oliver.

“Hello Felicity.” Why he didn’t hang up the minute he knew Thea’s focus on him was gone? He looked incredibly attractive, damn him. She was supposed to be playing it cool. If Thea saw her drooling over Oliver on a videochat she would never stop her quest to hook them up. Even before Operation Hook Them Up, Felicity had to admit that she found Oliver ridiculously good looking. She always worried that Thea would catch her checking him out at gatherings.

“Hello Oliver. How are you?” Small talk. One of the worst talks, up there with Birds and The Bees talk, and public speaking.

Oliver smiled widely.”Bored, which is why I decided to harass Thea. Don’t tell her though.”

God, he has such a skill at making people feel at ease. Draws you in and eases off your drawers, or so she’s heard.

“It’s only fair. I have it on good authority that she does the same thing.”

He chuckled. “So she _does_ love me!”

“Guilty as charged,” Thea yelled from the doors. “I can take my phone back. No need to torture you any longer than necessary, Felicity.” Oliver, who wasn’t aware of the previous conversation, took Thea’s comment as a sibling joke at his expense instead of Thea acknowledging Felicity’s claim that they were a terrible match.

“Listen Oliver Jonas, I have to go, but your ass better be home for dinner. Tommy’s gonna be there. Laurel too. If yo-”

“How about you, Felicity?” He asked even though Felicity was nowhere near the phone’s camera.

“Felicity booked a dentist appointment when I asked her to come.” She said. The girl could lay it on thick.

“If I’m still invited, I’d like to come.” Felicity had no idea where her response came from. She was used to the lack of filter and the need to babble, but this was different. It came from seemingly nowhere.

Thea’s head jerked towards her and she put her phone out of eye level. “You really don’t have to come. I’m not being a dick, I swear.” Felicity could see the honesty in Thea’s words. The little barbs Thea threw out before were more of her passive aggressively working through Felicity turning her down. When push came to shove, Thea didn’t want to put Felicity in a position that made her feel uncomfortable.

“Can I please come to dinner Thea? I can’t have takeout again.”

“There’s always a seat for you,” she said, the smile on her face absolutely childlike.

“Yeah, Felicity,” Oliver said on the screen. “You can take Thea’s seat.”

“Now listen here, dickwad.”

Thea was back to her normal loving, yet semi-abusive self. All it took was a dinner invitation. A dinner invitation? Felicity’s eyes widened. What the hell did she just agree to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that were longer than expected:  
> 1\. This chapter.  
> 2\. That nap I took the day I was supposed to write this chapter.  
> 3\. How long it took me to post this chapter. 
> 
> :) thanks for reading


	4. In The Words of Many a Bluth, "I've Made a Huge Mistake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE WHOLE ENDING OF THIS PAST FELICITY LEAVING WAS CUT OUT! I ADDED IT IN JUST NOW AT 8.27 AM EST, MAJOR APOLOGIES!

In a bind. In a pickle. Caught between a rock and a hard place. Up Shit’s Creek in a barbed wire canoe with a rusty teaspoon for a paddle.

Felicity was in need of a shock blanket. Maybe someone should aid her into the recovery position. Or possibly elevated feet? All of the above? An Ativan!

She cradled her head in her hands remembering every detail of the past five minutes. She thought to herself that there must be a word that means “instant regret”. Not that instant regret doesn’t work to describe her feelings, it was just nice to have a good Scrabble word at the ready. Like, “Thea never gives up; she is sedulous.” When describing her, a narrator with a distinctive, calming voice could say, “Felicity instantly regrets opening her mouth; she is … some fancy word that gets lots of points.” A two dollar word was always good to throw around. Not that she’s doing any word throwing alone in Verdant’s bathroom. Throwing _up_ may happen though.

WHY WOULD SHE AGREE TO A QUEEN FAMILY DINNER INVITE?

Years of peroxide must’ve finally caught up with her. On the average day, agreeing to go to a Queen family dinner would be considered a big deal for Felicity. Today is not like any other. She has a Thea Queen bloodhound, finely attuned to the scent of panic, on patrol.

Besides that, Moira makes her feel uneasy, despite her never really treating Felicity with hostility. And their home isn’t a house, it’s a mansion. A mansion filled with expensive knicknacks. What exactly is the point of a vase that you don’t put flowers in? Why have crystal ashtrays if nobody smokes? Why own the equivalent of a china shop if you’re going to invite a bull to dinner? Felicity being the bull in this scenario. A bull with a slight, infinitesimal, petite ~~crush~~ fondness for Oliver Queen.

A fondness that will be hyper-examined by Thea.  
And Roy.  
And Tommy and Laurel, who, to be fair, aren’t going to be looking for any extended glances that Felicity may make towards Oliver.  
And Thea.  
And Moira and Walter.  
And Thea.  
Particularly Thea.  
Mostly Thea.  
Thea will be there.

Thea Queen will be poking and prodding Felicity. Likely drawing hearts in the air when she thinks Oliver isn’t looking. But Oliver will be looking, not because he’ll be checking Felicity out, but because Thea isn’t as subtle as she thinks she is. It will be awkward and horrible.

Felicity suppressed a sob, still sitting on the toilet. If she wasn’t able to pull herself together in the next minute in a half, Thea was likely to notice. Felicity would then be forced to admit she was freaking out about dinner. “But why,” Thea would ask in her plot to get Felicity to admit she has thought about Oliver in less of a “mutual acquaintance” and more of a “fulfill my fantasies” way.

The clock was ticking. She was no closer to calming herself now than she was when she abruptly excused herself to the bathroom. It was probably worse now. Borrowing trouble wasn’t ordinarily a Felicity Smoak skill, but apparently she was nationally ranked without any practice. Donna always told her she could do anything she put her mind to.

Which was just the thought Felicity needed to have.  
She can do this.  
She can calm herself down.

Thea has NO reason to believe that Felicity has the hots for Oliver. Her reluctance to go out with Thea’s brother was strictly based on the fact that she and Oliver don’t make sense. This dinner would work as evidence that Oliver has no interest in her. It could even help Felicity to downgrade her crush into just an attraction to his physical features from afar. An acknowledgement that Oliver is an attractive man. Aston Martins are beautiful cars, but that doesn’t mean that Felicity is seriously considering getting one. No piggy bank Aston Martin fund. No daydreams about Oliver’s bodyfacesmile everything.

Felicity gave the toilet an unnecessary flush. Google forbid Thea doesn’t hear the woosh sound. While washing her hands, she stared determinedly at her reflection.

You can do this.  
You are a strong, smart woman.  
Oliver isn’t into you, but that’s okay.  
You can get over this, because it’s not a big deal.  
No matter what Thea has up her sleeves, you can and will overcome it.  
It’s just dinner.  
You’re fine.  
Go be fine outside.

Felicity exited the bathroom to see Thea and Roy leaning into each other. It would be a normal sight if there was a canoodling/PDA air about it Their postures were intimate, just not romantic. Felicity always thought of the phrase, “on the same page” in a school setting. All the students have their books open to page 35, on the same page. Thea and Roy were the two in the back sharing the book. His finger underlining the sentence being read while Thea counts out the rows of students to highlight what part they will have to orate. They’re scheming something.

The clack of Felicity’s heels paused the couple from whatever they were discussing. Roy gave the classic, “we’ve been caught” wide eyes, while Thea maintained an unbothered look and stance. The woman would make an excellent secret agent. Smoother than Bond. If anyone should think about buying an Aston Martin, it was Thea Queen.

“I’m not going to ask what it is, because years of knowing you has taught me not to, but I am asking that whatever it is you’re scheming, don’t.” Felicity’s hands were on her hips. She felt like a second grade teacher. Detentions for both of them. Separately. Do seven year olds get detention? No coloring sheets!

“There are no ‘schemes’, Felicity. You’re being over-dramatic and a bit paranoid.”

“Says the woman who thinks I made a lunch date with some guy to personally spite her,” Felicity scoffed.

“Why are we going back to talk about him?” Thea raised her hands in sheer annoyance. “I thought we left that behind us.”  
Felicity’s attention was kept on Thea and her fit of outrage when she should have been analyzing Roy and what he might give away. Felicity fell for the classic misdirection technique. Did she or did she not grow up in Vegas, home of David Copperfield, Penn and Teller, Nico Acosta on the strip who used to do three-card monty?

By the time Felicity looked back at Roy he schooled his face to be completely neutral. Impenetrable. And in Felicity’s eyes, HIDING DECEITFUL PLANS.

“Thea, please.” Felicity was not above begging. Especially when she knows its power against Thea. “I’m agreeing to dinner as my Picasso dove. I love you, but your house makes me feel uncomfortable already. And with the three of us as the only ones privy to this little schoolyard taunting, I’m asking you to please not make this more awkward for me.”

Thea grabbed Felicity’s shoulders. “Regardless of how little faith you have in me, I will not make tonight dinner awkward. In fact, I will actively work against making tonight awkward!”

Felicity couldn’t tell whether Thea’s shaking of her shoulders or Thea’s words were making her nauseated. Or maybe which ones were making her more nauseated.

“That really doesn’t make me feel better, Thea. None of those words sounded like an agreement to back off trying to push me and Oliver together tonight.” Felicity’s eyes almost hit her lenses. “And every day after that until the end of time. Not just tonight. I need you to start actively not doing it tonight, though. Being active by being inactive. Stop giggling, Roy, it makes sense!”

Roy feigned offense. “I was chuckling, not giggling.”

Thea slowly dragged her palms down Felicity’s arms. “Roy and I promise not to do anything pushy. In fact, I’ll tell my mother not to place you and Ollie across from or next to each other at the dinner table.” Thea was gripping Felicity’s hands loosely yet confidently. And she was calm. Too calm.

Felicity squinted her eyes. “I don’t like this agreeable person you’re being right now, Thea. I feel like I’m being tricked. Did you cross your fingers with that promise?” Felicity pulled away from Thea to grab her phone. Thea peaked over Felicity’s shoulder trying to figure out what brought on the abrupt cell search.

“Why are you looking at my Twitter feed, Felicity?”

“Are you going to pretend like you haven’t tweeted ‘It’s opposite day today’ before lying to someone before?”

Before Thea could defend herself, Felicity’s phone chimed.

“If that’s Greg Martin, I reserve the right to go back on my promise.”

Felicity sucked her teeth. “No, I had a couple of programs running at home and I must’ve forgotten to turn the power strip on again. Now I have a dead battery and a download that has to start from scratch.”

Thea jutted her lip out. “That sucks, but can I just throw in that I believe your story and won’t ask to see your phone because I trust you unl-”  
“Okay, Thea. I got it.”

Felicity sighed. “I hate to split, but I really need to go. I’m gonna get an Uber and then I’ll see you at your house, I guess.” The misery grew with every word she spoke.

Thea rolled her eyes at her best friend’s (newfound) melodramatic behavior. “Roy can drive you home, and I promise that we will pick you up before dinner to avoid a ‘grand entrance’. I told you I would work against having an awkward evening. I promised you that, Felicity.” Thea looked sincere enough that Felicity had to have confidence in her.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she started. Thea raised an eyebrow and Felicity raised a single finger to stop her from starting a rant. Felicity continued on, “You’re up against a Category 5 Hurricane Felicity. With the forecast calling for 600 words per minute of nothing but rambling inappropriateness. I believe you’ll try your hardest, but I’m sure I’ll ruin any of your attempts.”

Thea tapped her ear. “That sounded like you not believing me, actually. You’ll be fine when you trust me. Now go, before it takes you all night to fix your computer.”

Roy spun his keys around his finger. “C’mon Blondie. I’ll remind you how someone who didn’t bribe the DMV to get their license drives.” Thea only laughed as he walked out the doors.

Felicity blew a kiss to Thea. “If you have any outfit suggestions, I’d be grateful.”

Thea nodded. “My Cher Horowitz virtual closet is running. You think you can write a program for that?”

The car horn beeped and Thea glared out the doors. “He is such a child. Smack him for me?”

Felicity walked backwards towards the doors. “Maybe if you asked him to drop me off instead of just offering his services up he’d be more chill.”

Thea waved her worries away. “He’ll live.”

♛♥

“You really didn’t have to drop me off, Roy.” Felicity said as she hopped into the passenger seat. 

Roy just shrugged. “I would’ve offered if Thea didn’t. You’re no trouble.”

“Ugh,” Felicity grunted and rubbed her forehead. “Trouble found me, unfortunately.”

Roy cast a careful glance in her direction. “If you’re uncomfortable about tonight, you can tell Thea, you know. She’ll get you out of it no problem. You don’t have to make yourself miserable. Thea’s having a bit of a rough time with DJs walking out on her and the idiot permit guy that she’s suing. She’s been a little... Uh. You won’t slug me if I say emotional, right?”

“You remain slug free, I promise,” she laughed. “I have noticed that she’s been a little overwhelmed lately. I tried bringing it up but she is a master of topic changes.”

“Classic Thea Queen avoidance technique.” He pulled down her block, tapping on the wheel lightly in tune with the low music coming from Starling’s classic rock station. 

Before she could move to undo her seatbelt, Roy blocked it with his mit-like hands. “If you decide you don’t want to go, call Thea. Please. She will understand. No matter what she’s going through right now, she does love you. But I can promise that if you come tonight, neither of us will let anything awkward or embarrassing go down. If it comes down to it, Thea can pull a good old fashioned pregnancy scare. We’ll threaten to name our baby Aardvark, or maybe throw out that I’m not the father.” 

Felicity laughed at how absurd it sounded, even though she knew deep in her bones that it is certainly something Thea would do. 

“You guys are one act short of a circus, but I love you to bits anyway.” She undid her seatbelt and gathered her stuff. 

“I’m going to be a big girl and suck it up for tonight. Thank you for the ride and the ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card.”

With a nod and a, “Later,” Roy watched as Felicity opened the door to her townhouse and let herself in with a wave.

Once she was out of sight, Roy let out a deep sigh of pure relief. He was never good at lying to the women in his life. While it was true that he and Thea would work to avoid awkwardness at all costs tonight, if Felicity point blank asked him whether they had anything planned, he would have given everything away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that Thea promised no pushing and no awkwardness. She said there was no scheming. Scheming =/= planning. Scheming is devious, while planning is beneficial. She didn't say no planning. :) (Unless i didn't edit correctly and she did. I am a terrible editor. )
> 
> I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I'm grateful to any and all of you that are still sticking around!
> 
> thanks for reading !!!


	5. Fashionistas Are Overly Dramatic. And Slightly Annoying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the last chapter within the first hour of me publishing it, you probably missed the last few paragraphs, which got chopped off because I tried to use the laptop emoji, and it isn't supported.

There is something relaxing about computer maintenance- in Felicity Smoak’s mind, at least. Programming is a rollercoaster of emotions: anxiety, elation, confusion, even times where she has temporarily converted to a different religion in hope that a foreign god or spirit might decipher a cryptic error message. But computer upkeep is a way to unwind. Computer cleaning is a source of stress relief that happens to be beneficial to the health of both the machine and the user. You don’t need a peer reviewed journal to tell you that slow computers cause elevated blood pressure and decreased patience.

A large portion of the tech using world might clean out caches and clear cookies as much as they dust the top of their refrigerators, Felicity would find anyone comparing the two as sacreligious.  Hardly any fridge owners see the top of their machine, but every computer owner uses a computer.

And for clarity’s sake, computer means electronic device, mostly digital, that stores and manipulates information. That does NOT include printers, which can only be communicated with and fixed with help from the occult.

Felicity could always center herself by tinkering with motherboards or running personally crafted scans, or maybe even ordering velcro ties for wiring!  A yoga of her own. Nobody can get themselves into the Hunched Key Tapper better than Felicity.

She was in the middle of vacuuming her keyboard when her phone buzzed and chirped in the Thea specific text warning/tone.

_Thea:_ _Stop diddling your computers and get ready. Put on that black wrappy dress that I like. And the yellow sandals with the strings._

Felicity sat down, puzzled by Thea’s urging to start getting ready. She had only been working for … a quick look at the time stamp showed that it had been 4 hours of “computer diddling”.

Felicity was used to the time jumps associated with work absorption, so that marks one explanation down. And Thea talking to her like a husband before a rare date night was also a normal occurrence. The real issue and question was about the outfit choice.

Felicity typed back: _The floral one?_

Thea responded quicker than anyone who constantly presses the Shift and Caps Lock on a physical keyboard had any right to.

_Thea:_ _? Unless you bought more wrap dresses when I wasnt looking._

The phone buzzed and trilled again. She must’ve taken too long to respond, resulting in Thea requesting a video chat. Felicity slid the icon across the screen and was greeted by a clearly annoyed Thea.

“Why are you fighting the dress, Felicity?”

No greeting, just down to business.

“Why hello, Thea,” She said sarcastically. Not that Felicity cared about ‘phone etiquette’. It was just a delay tactic so she could avoid talking about outfits, and dinners, and family incompatibility oh my!

The clearly annoyed heiress rolled her neck so that her head faced the ceiling, but Felicity knew from years of experience that her eyes were rolling too.

“Hello Felicity,” Thea said with faked enthusiasm about having to play along. “How are you? Oh great. While we’re on the phone, you want to tell me why you think the most fashionable person in your life is wrong about an outfit choice?”

Felicity lifted her eyebrows and smirked in an expression that must’ve read as, “Oh really?”

Thea scoffed elegantly. “The day you meet someone more in touch with style is the day that I will retire with grace and pride. In fact, I can’t wait for it, because that will be the day that my child has surpassed me. I will have raised a fashion editor who thanks me in a roundabout way in every new magazine issue.”

“Your kid is gonna wear socks with sandals and those D-ring belts that never stay up as a sign of defiance.”

With a patronising smile, Thea shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what a true style icon wears. One day everyone calls double denim a faux pas, the next day Rihanna is wearing it and suddenly it works. But enough about little Aardvark T. Harper,  why don’t you want to wear that absolutely adorable, not really provocative dress? I went through every outfit in your closet. Mentally. And every option I almost chose was nixed because I figured you would claim I’m trying to show off that Smoakin’, and that is Smoak with an ‘A’, body to my brother. Because you might snap and think that I’m primping you for an auction. Which I say as a joke, but trust me if we were ever in a situation that there was an auction for charity, Roy would one hundred percent outbid any guy for you. And if he couldn’t outbid, he would outfist. You have my word on this.”

As Thea was talking, Felicity made her way to her closet to pull out the dress. She flicked through hangers, “There is never a point with you that I know where to begin. This is so far the second time that I’ve heard about baby Aardvark which makes me think you and Roy have discussed mixing your DNA and discovered a name generator website.” She found the dress in question.

“Just so you know, your niece’s middle initial doesn’t stand for anything either. We just liked it.”

Felicity pulled the hanger over her head to give the illusion of wearing the dress. “Not even conceived and yet I’m already considering calling child protective services.”

She changed to the outward facing camera so she could model the dress in a full length mirror. “Don’t you think this is a little too ‘afternoon stroll’? This is dinner with your mom. What are you wearing?”

“Did you ever think that a decade after high school we’d still be asking ’what are you wearing’? God, we are female stereotypes. Let’s talk about women we hate and cramps while crying at a soap opera.”

“Thea, I hate you. You’re a worse pain than menstrual cramping. You anger me to tears, I’ve never seen a soap opera besides _Degrassi_ , and I need to know what the hell you’re wearing."

“Please dismount your high horse, ma’am. I hate to break it to you but _Grey’s Anatomy_ is a soap opera. And _Friday Night Lights._ And I can see you flipping me off, Smoak. It’s a mirror.”

Felicity changed back to the selfie mode camera, not because she was ‘caught’ waving her middle finger at Thea, but because she felt that a face focused camera would be intimidating.

“Thea, your outfit!”

“My mother is almost certainly going to call my pants pajamas. They’re Dolce and Gabbana, for the love of god!” Thea’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “Did that just sound totally silver spoon? Please put me out of my misery if I talk like that in public. I only meant it in the way of like, if a crayon was breaking and I go, ‘It’s Crayola!’ Trying to give it validity for being an actual pair of pants.”

Through Thea’s rant, Felicity fell on her bed. “Is this how people feel when I babble,” She asked Thea, who was too busy fondling her pants to realize that Felicity asked her a question.

“This is my outfit. As you can see, this is not a ballgown. I could accompany you on whatever afternoon stroll you think your dress is geared for. Not that we could confidently take cute pictures together if that stroll ends up in an ice cream parlor. Your floral and my playing card pants would clash so badly.”

Felicity finally got a peek at Thea’s outfit. “Are there queens on your pants?”

Thea smirked. “Subtle, right?”

“Aardvark is never going to be able to sleep in your house. Your clothes are too loud.”

Thea waved her off. “My uterus probably comes with a Vogue subscription.”

“Promise me you’ll let me take pictures of her with an Hermès scarf as a diaper.”

Felicity heard Roy in the background shout, “If anybody’s making a microfashion Instagram page for Aardvark, it’s going to be me.”

Thea whispered to Felicity, “We’ll hack that shit so quick.”

The women giggled lightly in the way that only conspiring best friends can.

“Okay, now that we’ve got outfits settled I’m going to wash the beer mat residue off my elbows and I’ll see you at my house.”

The panic clawed its way back into Felicity’s chest. “Thea, what do you think Laurel’s going to be wearing?”

The eyes rolled again. “Stop freaking out, Smoak. We’re not the actual royals. Plus what you’re wearing could probably be pulled off my Meghan Markle. Call me or Roy when you get there. Love you.”

Thea hung up on Felicity before the blonde had the chance to respond.

Felicity looked at the dress lying on top of her once more.

“I guess you’ll have to do,” she said, stroking the fabric lightly.

♛♥ 

Felicity called Roy before the mansion was even in sight. In a perfect world, he’d be outside when she arrives. She can imagine him by the gate, greeting her when she pulls up. He’ll usher her in, make the situation less awkward, and then Tommy and Laurel will enter to take the attention off of herself. It will be a pleasant evening with delicious food and easy conversation. She’ll almost consider agreeing to go to dinner with Thea’s family again, but ultimately she will realize that that Fate is not a woman to be tempted.

Roy’s smooth voice interrupted Felicity’s best case scenario daydream.

“Thea has already assured you that your outfit is fine. Please put it on.”

“You know, they say opposites attract, but I honestly can’t tell the difference between you and Thea these days. Neither of you know how to answer a phone.”

“Thea is controlling and wants to take the reins on any conversation from the get go. I’m just time efficient, which I will admit, in this scenario it is ineffective as a tactic because you wasted more time than I saved.”

“The pair of you should be lawyers. You’re so good at arguing. Now come meet me outside because I’m by the gate.”

The lack of immediate response should’ve tipped her off.

“Felicity, where are you?”

Panic set in immediately. She squished up against the steering wheel, trying to get a better look beyond the gate for a glimpse of Thea or Roy’s car. Neither was there.

“Did you manage to use a cloaking device on your Roy-mobile?”

“Yeah. Um. We’re not actually there yet, Felicity. Thea’s only getting dressed now.”

Felicity repeatedly thumped her head lightly on the wheel. She may be stressed, but at least her mind was able to subconsciously avoid a beeping horn. It’s bad being an early, anxious guest who refuses to enter a house without somebody accompanying her. It’s worse to be an early, anxious guest who refuses to enter a house without somebody accompanying her, beeping the horn like a maniac on the perimeter of the said house’s property.

“Ask Thea if there’s a good place around here where I can go and wait. Which sucks so much because I would rather have a mini freak out in my home rather than in a Target parking lot.”

She was so busy banging her head on the wheel, she didn’t see the figure walking up behind her car.

She could’ve sped up and left him in a ball of smoke. She could’ve been halfway to the department store Thea was describing. Instead he continued his walk to her window and knocked loud enough to distract her from her head thumping.

 

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/140110339@N06/27025065907/in/dateposted-friend/)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took forever and a day. I always end up on the sidetrack of the train line that has been closed for the past century. Sometimes I need a team of historians and city planners with schematics to get back out.
> 
> And I'm also sorry that this chapter is not plot filled. But if we're being honest, this is not a thrilling adventure story, and plot is pretty light. I tried writing straight to the dinner and it was just not working. 
> 
> Thank you for reading/continuing to read/not marking my work as spam.


	6. Please Don't Frighten The Tiny Blondes

Felicity truly felt that she understood what zoologists and aquarists meant when they warned you not to bang on the walls of an animal enclosure. Some lessons are learned only through personal experience (stepping on a Lego is _actually_ painful), but she always thought “Don’t Tap On The Glass” was pretty logical. Now, here she is, trapped in her car, Roy and Thea arguing on speakerphone about driving to a department store, and Oliver Queen hunched over and frightening Felicity Fish in her tank. Fishity? Felfishity? She was of **fish** ally able to understand how tapping was unnerving, anxiety inducing- and let’s be honest- annoying.

She must’ve been gaping at him like an actual fish, a trout maybe, because he looked confused. Rightly so. His sister’s friend was sitting outside his home, blocking the gate to get in. On top of that she was staring at him behind a window that was completely capable of being opened, yet wasn’t. Maybe she should do that.

She rolled the glass down, Roy and Thea still talking about the parking spots at Rotham’s Department Store and whether or not they were regulation size.

“Hello Felicity,” he said kindly. She didn’t know him well enough to tell if the tone he was using was the same one he would use for children or strangers in the park with leaflets saying, “The end is nigh.”

She gave a little awkward wave in greeting. “Hey, Oliver. I didn’t see you there. Don’t worry, I’ll move out of your way.”

Thea must’ve heard what was occurring over the line. She ended her rant on where she was buying road paint to respond to the new conversation she wanted to be apart of. “Oliver? How many Olivers do you know?”

“Thea, it’s me,” he said with a little smirk and shake of the head. He looked at Felicity as if to say, “Can you believe my sister is so harebrained?”

Felicity wasn’t sure if Thea’s voice could be considered a shriek, howl, or squawk when she yelled out “OLIVER?!” They both cowered at her high pitch when Thea continued, “Why are you at Rotham’s? What are you buying?

Oliver leaned into Felicity’s car to talk to his sister, crowding Felicity’s space in an entirely too appealing way.

“Thea,” he was calm, “I’m at Mom’s. Felicity and I are gonna head inside. Why didn’t you give her the code? And why are you not here? You better not be late.”

Felicity felt anxiety returning. Thea was late and now she was going to be stuck in Mrs. Queen’s house with Oliver and no Thea or Roy to take attention off her/stop her from saying something embarrassing/sedate her if need be.  
It was almost like this was schemed up by a master conniver. Before she could turn the panic of being stuck into anger at being hoodwinked, Thea spoke up.

“Oliver, Mister Tardy, is talking to me about being late? You know what, I don’t have time for this.”

Thea, as talented as she was at plotting and planning, could never count on the infamously unpunctual Oliver Queen being early.

Oliver rolled his eyes, reminding Felicity so much of Thea.

“I am capable of being on time. And good thing I was, or else Felicity would be sitting here longer. We’re going inside and we’ll see you soon.”

Oliver didn’t leave much room for argument, and even if he did, was there an appropriate way to say your best friend’s family made you feel awkward? He walked to the gate and pressed the correct code while Felicity closed her window so she could speak to Thea without being overheard. To keep suspicion to a minimum, Felicity spoke softly through a hardly opened mouth.

“Thea, what do I do?”  
“Felicity.”  
“I’m going to say something inappropriate.”  
“Listen to me.”  
“I’m going to embarrass myself.”  
“Felicity.”  
“I’m hyperventilating.  
“Calm down.”  
“Can I break my car somehow in a way that will require me staying in the car?”  
“I don-”  
“Would your brother be able to punch a window open?  
“You don-”  
“By the size of his arms I’d say he could.”

While Felicity was in the middle of a freak-out, not listening to Thea at all, Oliver opened the gate and returned to his car. He expected Felicity to drive in front of him.

“Thea, please tell me what to do.”

“You’re going to relax because we’re almost there. You’re going to tell my brother that you forgot to bring a gift. That’s why you called me from the gate. Then you escape and wait for further instructions.”

“How do you come up with lies so quickly?” Felicity was actually impressed. The best lie she could’ve come up with was maybe something about a family emergency that she would have to remember and add more to the story every time she saw Thea’s family.

“Oliver knows better than to argue with someone who needs to go shopping. I promised you I would do all I could to keep you feeling calm and at ease.”

Roy piped in, “We’re on our way out now, Felicity.”

Felicity rolled her window down when she saw Oliver park his car and get out. “Okay Roy, you guys will probably be here before I get back. Bye.”

She hung up quickly without waiting for either on the line to respond or let something slip about the situation. She was sure they were mocking her about phone etiquette.

“Get back from where?” Oliver asked. He must’ve been ridiculously confused about what happened in the two minutes that he was gone.

Felicity jutted her thumb back to the main road. “I have to go to the store. I forgot a hostess gift for your mom.”

Oliver’s eyes jutted to the flowers on the passenger seat with a small smile.

Felicity followed his eyes and blushed. “Thea, uh said that um your mom was allergic to these, so I have to get something else?” Not a truly terrible lie. In fact, Thea might be proud of that one if only Felicity could say it convincingly.

Oliver gave her a kind smile. “I forgot that she’s allergic to,” he pointed at the bouquet, unable to identify the flowers.

“Mallows,” she filled in.

He just nodded slowly, then leaned in her car, similarly as before, only this time his focus was on her and not the phone.

“Sometimes she intimidates me, and she’s my mother. I promise that I can protect you just as good as Thea. Maybe even better. But,” he leaning even closer, “if you want to take off and come back when everybody else is here, I won’t tell.”

Oliver couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at him with such admiration and awe.

“You are a lifesaver,” she told him with a broad smile. Felicity watched Oliver smiling as he walked away from her door. She re-buckled her seatbelt, a feeling of content and freedom filling her. It was a wonderful fifteen seconds, until Oliver opened her passenger door, picked up the bouquet of mallows, and sat down.

“Rotham’s sells these candles that my mom’s been burning like she’s in a medieval church. I’ll help you find them.”

Every Starling native she’s met made friends in extraordinarily forward ways. Thea adopted her in a coffee shop after a three minute conversation, and Oliver Queen declared himself her shopping partner after she lied to his face in front of his mansion. The water tower must’ve been spiked to make Starling natives act so brazen. Felicity was an avid water filter user, but she either needed to move and escape this town of overly friendly mini-crazies, or start drinking straight from the tap and become one herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frequently asked questions (that you may think but don't actually ask)  
> 1.) "Didn't you say dinner was going to be the next chapter?"  
> -I don't know what happened. It got away from me, but it's easier to write this than what I originally planned.  
> 2.)" Why is this chapter shorter than the others?"  
> \- Because I didn't finish the second half of this chapter and realized this was probably enough to put up on its own so that you're not waiting forever.  
> 3.) "Do you honestly think people are going to read this note?"  
> \- Nah. I'm just trying to validate my own feelings on why dinner hasn't happened and why it's so short. Very cathartic. I know I could write anything here and only I would know about it. Ken Hotate. The Dreamfinder and Figment. I have a papercut.


	7. Car Wrecks Aren't Just Collisions

When Felicity was fifteen, her neighbor Toni took her for driving lessons on an overcast November morning. As she opened the driver door to the red ‘93 Pontiac Sunbird, Toni told her, “There’s an incredible feeling of freedom that driving gives you, babe. You’ll never be trapped with a set of car keys and a full tank of gas.” 

Toni had obviously never been a personal driver for her best friend’s brother. 

The only thing “free” about this was the ride she was giving Oliver. And yes, she was going to overlook the mental phrasing that included “ride” and “Oliver”. Bypassing it completely. Dodging any mental images it may bring up.

The average person tried to avoid potentially awkward situations. Queens, Felicity had learned, were anything  _ but _ average. 

After Oliver buckled himself in, he shifted to the side and smiled at her. “They can even do gift wrapping there.” He was entirely too excited to be stuck in a car, running errands with someone he barely knew. Apparently he was instant best friends with everyone he met. Like a suburban kid in a 50s sitcom. Well, gee willikers Oliver, didn’t anyone ever tell you about stranger danger? 

And why was he so overjoyed with gift wrapping? Was he familiar with the variety of ribbons and bags found in your local dollar store? Instead, he’s celebrating paying thirty dollars extra for cellophane with a sprig of myrtle thrown in.

“So, uh. How do we get there?” No time like the present for getting into the speaking portion of the ride. Plus, men have a great interest in giving directions. Stereotypically, of course. And that should keep him busy instead of actually talking. 

“Oh, it’s so simple. Just take this until it merges with Cortland, and then it’ll be on the left.”

Such detailed and complicated coordinates... So much for keeping him occupied.

Felicity nodded slowly. “Cool.” Because what else do you say in this situation? You get a handful of set responses when you’re in an awkward conversation: Yeah, No, Nice, Cool, and Wow. Normally the more dominant speaker will use this one worded response from the passive speaker as a refuel zone before continuing to navigate the little chat.

Accepting Felicity’s standard answer, Oliver would probably then talk about how useful simple directions are when trying to get somewhere quickly. Because that is the small talk format. Making conversation based on noticeable observations like, “Gee it’s cold,” or, “The elevator’s taking a long time,” or, “Traffic sucks.”

But he didn’t. Because Oliver Queen follows no script. He turned her life into an improv show where nobody was laughing. So, basically just an improv show.

“I’m glad you decided to come tonight.” It was phrased like the precursor to a kiss after a date, but they were two familiar strangers trapped in a car together, so it was actually just a friendly exchange. Doesn’t mean that Felicity didn’t hear it said flirtatiously.

“Yeah.” Nice use of the set responses, Felicity. Between oversharing and being awkward, or being terse and awkward, she would prefer the option that doesn’t end with confessing feelings of infatuation. 

“Felicity,” he chuckled out. “I haven’t seen white knuckle driving like that since my dad first drove Thea home from the hospital.”

She immediately spread her fingers out, keeping her palms in contact with the wheel. It was truly fascinating how mental stress can broadcast itself physically. Terrible design flaw for humans. Anxiety should just stay in its little brain box and avoid causing excessive sweating, trembling, palpitations, and interior car destruction.

And all of this agony was Thea’s fault.

Somewhere in that jittery overthinking noggin of hers, Felicity realized that her unsolicited guilt was more of a factor in accepting the dinner invitation than Thea was. But it was easier to pin the tail of blame on the ass of Thea (or Thea the Ass?).

And now here Oliver was, bringing up baby Thea as if she were a precious little blessing that wouldn’t grow up to count for a healthy portion of all the trauma Felicity experienced as an adult.

“She was actually born? I always thought she was summoned.”

Oliver huffed out some air in a laugh-like manner. Not a snort exactly, because Queens don’t have the capacity to do anything unattractive. She once watched Thea puke into a handbag and it kinda looked like a painting. A Surrealist painting maybe, but still a work of art. 

“Tommy and I used to read books backwards when we were bored as kids. We might have accidentally conjured her up.”

The red light they were currently stopped at gave Felicity the opportunity to stare at him for the first time. 

“Normally I love to talk about how Thea is part goblin, but did I hear correctly that Tommy Merlyn used to read for fun?”

“Not sure that the comprehension part was all that great, but yeah.”

She drummed her fingers on the wheel. “If I asked very nicely do you think you could tell me something that would make Tommy jump out of his skin?”

Oliver scratched his neck, whether it was from confusion or discomfort, Felicity didn’t know. She wasn’t asking for Tommy’s social security number, just something that would catch his breath for a minute.

“You mean like,” He let the question hang. 

“He left an ultra realistic looking kangaroo behind the bar for me a couple of months ago. Because they creep me out. And he’s an assclown. But to be fair, that little rat thing would scare anyone. It was too lifelike. Thea offered to slug him for me, but I didn’t take her up on it.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding relieved. “I thought-” He paused briefly and cleared his throat. “I didn’t realize that you guys are as close as you are.’

Felicity huffed through her nose in an actual snort. “We’re not besties, I’m just pretty vocal about my fear of kangaroos. And needles. And rubbing dry paper towels against each other. Although it’s not actually a fear, just a pet peeve, ya know? And I’m around a lot, so he has to hear the babbles.”

“Who else do you know?” He asked, head cocked and genuinely interested in the answer to such a nonspecific question. 

“Do you want that list chronological, alphabetical, by decreasing importance? Because it might take a while to compose and I don’t want to make it twice.”

“Thea will be pissed if she’s not at the top of any list you make,” a very insightful assumption on his part, “but I was just wondering who else we have in common. You don’t find it odd that we have Venn diagram friends but have never really met?” 

“And by Venn diagram friends, you mean that we’re on two separate circles and Thea, Roy, Tommy, Laurel, and Sara the intersections? Oh and John and Lyla too.” Sometimes a confirmation is best.

Oliver nodded earnestly. “Exactly.” Then he froze. “Wait, John too?”

“Suddenly writing out a list of people I know doesn’t sound so unreasonable. Any chance Lou at WinCo is your favorite cashier? We might have more in common than I thought.”

“We must have something in common,” he said thoughtfully. “Your friends are my friends.”

“And my friends are your friends,” she sang softly with a laugh. “It’s been a long time since I heard that. Daycare at least.”

“Well maybe the more we get together, the happier we’ll be.” It was smooth, but not a come-on. Not that using a children’s song as a chat up line should/could ever be used. But if there were a man to use one, Oliver Queen would be him. And she’s willing to bet his rendition of “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes” would lead to more head and knees than shoulders and toes.

Felicity was saved from thinking of other potentially filthy songs (“London Bridge is Going Down”, and perhaps, “Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar”) by Rotham’s approaching on their left. Things were just starting to feel a little more comfortable. Slipping back into inappropriate thoughts would bring her back to head slamming and word fumbling territory.

 

♛♥ 

 

Felicity pulled into the parking lot with a warning to her copilot, “Eyes peeled for a close spot.”

Oliver voiced his confusion out loud, seeing as the lot wasn’t particularly crowded. “Anything wrong with that spot?” He pointed to the space to their right. “Or there,” he pointed to the space next to it. “Or any of these really,” he said while sweeping his arms wide at the many spaces she drove past.

“There’s bound to be a closer space. Then we’ll feel like idiots when we walk past it.” Her eyes were nothing short of owlish, trying to seek out the prime parking location.

“And what happens if it takes longer to get a spot than it would to park back at Verdant and walk here?” 

Felicity scoffed. “Are you sure you and Thea are related? Usually she cheers me on in the Great Parking Perusal. And yet here you are, questioning my genius.”

With arms raised in surrender, Oliver gave a little laugh. “No questioning here. Just wondering if your genius has more of a mad scientist vibe going on. ”

“If I start saying that I invented the question mark, you’ll know for sure which side I lean on. Look! They’re leaving right in front.”

Oliver watched as Felicity’s face illuminated from the reverse lights ahead of her. Or maybe it was just the euphoria at such a great parking spot that made her light up.

“I love to watch them pull out for me.” She snapped her head to the right, trying to tell if Oliver heard the innocent phrase, or stretched to hear the gutter worthy one. The pinched lip smirk told her everything she needed to know.

“Welcome to the life of Felicity Smoak,” she sighed. “And suddenly you realize why you never traveled far from your side of the Venn diagram. And why your mother makes me break out in hives.”

“Felicity Smoak: lewd, mad genius with welts.”

“That might be the best epitaph a girl can ask for. Or a dating site bio. Either one. Maybe both?”

Oliver’s hand was still on the seat buckle. He didn’t release the belt. Instead he sat almost frozen, staring at her. 

Felicity noticed how Oliver seemed to be stiff as a statue. Logically, she knew that he didn’t turn into a sculpture from a random act of magic. And if he somehow did, what a cruel joke it would be. A man as attractive as himself didn’t deserve to to be preserved forever in such an unflattering position. He was legally required to be holding a discus, or an ancient weapon of some sort- not cramped in a car, staring at her like she was deranged.

Felicity thought that perhaps joking about gravestones was too much for a “first time really meeting” conversation. 

Or perhaps Felicity was too focused on her self consciousness and didn’t see that Oliver was shocked by her admission of being single.  

Working quickly, Felicity unbuckled herself and opened the door, trying not to suffocate from the thick uncomfortable air she released in the car. Escape mode in progress.

She was counting on there being some sort of distance between the two of them, but Oliver followed almost immediately after her. Which isn’t really that crazy. They came together in the car and now she’s running away? That’s even more awkward than the gravestone joke. And to think, it was going pretty okay before that. 

Bad Situation: Awkward conversation with a somewhat stranger in your car.

Bad Situation Made Worse: Abandoning the somewhat stranger- who is relying on you for a ride- after an awkward conversation.

Bad Situation With Worst Possible Outcome: Pending.

Felicity slowed down so that they were next to each other in silence all the way to the store’s entrance. Not a comfortable silence (although that shouldn’t have to be stated). Felicity cleared her throat, which in no way has ever made a situation more relaxed.

In some cases, doubling down on awkward can diffuse an embarrassing situation.  “So uh,” she said uneasily, “Does this place sell muzzles?” 

Oliver, bless his entire existence, played along while opening the door for her. “If they have a pretty pink bedazzled one, I’ll buy it for Thea.” 

“Be sure to keep the receipt for that charitable tax deduction. Your community thanks you.” Felicity looked around the store for the first time and saw nothing but temptation. Purses to the left. Shoes to the right. 

“Oliver, you’re gonna have to lead the way. And if you can take the menswear route there, please do.”

Oliver let out a chuckle which anyone could objectively describe as cute. “What makes you think going through menswear would be any more safe?”

Felicity took a deep breath. “We are adults with a strict schedule. We can do this.”

Oliver pulled his phone out of his pocket and started tapping away. He turned the screen to face her. “Look, we have ten minutes to get the candles and get back to the car.”

“Wait!” She grabbed his wrist to keep him from starting the timer. “Ten minutes to get to the register, at least. Or the doors. Give us a fighting chance.”

He was nodding along when Felicity realized she was still holding on to him. She dropped her hand quickly.

“Or,” he said mischievously, “We can play on hard mode.” He pressed the button smiled a bit crazed, but surprisingly remaining attractive. 

Before she could voice her outrage, Oliver ran away- oblivious to the people looking oddly at a grown man running happily, and athletically, through the department store. 

“Felicity!” He was quite far away, but she still heard the whine in his voice. And suddenly the Queen family resemblance was clear.

“I’m coming,” she whisper shouted back. And she ran, because she was an adult with a strict schedule.

  
  


♛♥ 

They managed to make it to the car with thirteen seconds to spare. Oliver paused the timer and presented his phone to Felicity with pride radiating off of his slightly dewy skin. 

He raised his hand, requesting a high five. “You’re a maniac,” she said while slapping his palm. 

“And you’re my new Supermarket Sweeps partner. Let me be the one to tell Roy he’s off the team. He needs to hear it from me.” 

Felicity started the car at almost the exact same time that her phone rang. Oliver looked over her shoulder to see Thea’s face pop up on the caller ID. 

She answered it cautiously. The call was going to speakerphone. Which means Oliver would hear everything. The potential for anything embarrassing happening was at a new all time high.

“Hey Thea,” she said calmly.

“Where are you? You can come back, I’m about to turn into the driveway.”

“Oliver took me to Rothams.” It was a simple sentence that said everything her best friend needed to know.

There was radio silence on the line. Thea was a smart woman. She was piecing together all the information.

“Okay.” Was her only response. Except she stretched the word out to three times its length.

Oliver’s eyes darted to Felicity. He realized that something odd was going on. 

“Yeah, he offered to show me your mom’s favorite candles. I bought some.” It was like Felicity was doing an impression of a human conversation. 

“Since when do you know Mom’s favorite candle, Oliver?” Thea was back in the groove. Diverting attention.

“I’m capable of noticing things, Thea. Probably better than you think.”

“Tell me, can your newfound elf eyes see how big a loser you are?”

“Hey, I can’t be that big a loser because I helped Felicity.” He looked smug while saying it.

“Did she ask you to?” Oh, no. Thea. That seems like a route you shouldn’t take. The playful sibling jabs seemed to be working best. Why would she abandon that?

“You left her alone at Mom’s house! I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable there counting down the minutes until you finally decided to arrive.”

Felicity decided to jump in. “Hey, it’s fine. Really guys. What’s done is done. And we’re fine now, so-”

“And you think hanging out with a dude she barely knows is any less weird?”

Of course Thea’s voice on a phone speaker overpowered Felicity’s own delivery.

Oliver once again stared at Felicity, everything becoming incredibly clear with Felicity’s lack of immediate response. 

“Oh,” he said softly. 

“That’s not true,” Felicity spoke up, just a half second too late. “We’ll be there soon, Thea.” She hung up without waiting for a goodbye.

They sat in silence even more uncomfortable than the aftermath of a Felicity Joke™ for what felt like an eternity.

“Your escape plan to the store included ditching me too.” It wasn’t a question. He replayed the entire situation back in his head, seeing everything he misread.

Felicity tried to push out an explanation. “To be fair, I thought you wouldn’t want to come with me anyway.”

“How,” he rubbed his forehead, “does that change anything?”  

“You barely know me, Oliver.” It made a world of sense to Felicity, but to Oliver that’s where the confusion came in.

“Everyone important in my life talks about you, Felicity. So why are we still strangers? Why can’t  _ I _ be your friend?”

What a drastic change in the man who was running laps in a department store.

“I spent so much time away from my family.  I disappointed them at every turn and made a fool of myself in so many ways. But I thought I had changed. I thought they could see that I changed too.” 

Felicity turned into the driveway of the Queen Mansion, not sure how to respond to Oliver’s confession of feeling inadequate. 

She put the car in park, turning to Oliver beside her. She was determined to say something, anything, that would make this better. 

He looked into her eyes and with sincerity and regret told her, “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Felicity,” before leaving to enter the house.

Whiplash isn’t just for car accidents, it seems. You can get them in car conversations too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lesson LEARNED in note writing! No more writing to myself, that is what a diary is for. Although, what is writing if it isn't for yourself? Anyway. 
> 
> There was a Doctor Evil joke in there in case you were reading and thought it sounded familiar. 
> 
> This took a weird turn and I'm not upset at it. Now it may seem that dinner is going to be an awful, depressing mess- BUT I can say that I am aiming to make it funny. This little sad burst seemed necessary. 
> 
> Poor Oliver, but dude, who jumps into cars with acquaintances? Good idea, but poor execution. Talk to her over dinner and maybe next time you guys can do a store run. He'll explain himself better once everyone knows the current situation. The jokes will continue is what I'm trying to explain. They will return whether you want them to or not!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	8. Crack Open A Window If You're Sitting In A Parked Car

Felicity, like any internet browsing person, fell victim to nostalgia lists. While scrolling through pictures of milky pens and Spice Girls lollipops, she would inevitably pass a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book in the lineup. 

It’s not that she  _ hated _ those books- she owned at least three as a kid! It’s just that she just couldn’t understand the passionate love others had for them.

Felicity should have adored the idea of multiple plot lines all packed into in one story. There was no wondering what would have happened had the main character told the truth or returned the wallet; she could just flip to the appropriate page and find out.

The real problem (besides the continuity break of having to search for a specific page instead of just flipping to the next one) was that the options usually sucked. Maybe she wanted to rewire the lighting before going into the basement instead of waiting until morning or feeling her way in the dark. The woman liked having multiple options, multiple  _ reasonable _ options- which is probably why Oliver popping into her car was such a catastrophe in the first place.“Semi-familiar attractive man enters your car, do you Drive Off Into The Sunset (turn to page 46) or Tell Him To Buzz Off (turn to page 14)?”

But right now, sitting in her best friend’s driveway, Felicity realized that she really did only have two options in this chapter of choose your own catastrophe.

Go inside or leave. 

Going inside meant that she would have to face an awkward evening with a downhearted Oliver, who apparently has some self esteem issues these days. 

Leaving would be rude and unfair on Thea, Roy, and Oliver. They would have to come up with an excuse as to why Felicity didn’t come to dinner tonight as she promised. Tommy would no doubt see through any lie, though. Which means that he would probably find out the truth.

But what was the truth? What would they possibly tell Tommy?

“Felicity left because she felt stupid.” 

Why?

“Because she made Oliver feel stupid.” 

How?

“Because Oliver thought he and Felicity were friends and Thea informed him they weren’t.”

It sounded very second grade-ish. Especially considering that they were getting along pretty well before Thea. 

But maybe she was being overly flattering to herself. Maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as she felt it was. Maybe Oliver wasn’t really that hurt, because NEWS ALERT he doesn’t really know her. Maybe she was just making up problems in her head. Maybe sh-

“Maybe you need to stop talking to yourself.” Roy opened the passenger door and sat down, making her grand total rise one more point in the number of men entering her car uninvited today. The total was two, but her lifetime average was zero. 

Funnily enough, both men were uninvited but not entirely unwelcome. There weren’t any words that Felicity could think of that gave a positive spin on uninvited. Unsolicited- no. Spontaneous? Roy broke her concentration, asking “What the hell happened in the span of thirty minutes that turned Oliver into Eeyore?”

There went the idea that Oliver’s mood was just lofty imagination on her part. Or maybe it was just a shared incorrect memory. Like the Mandela effect. 

“Your girlfriend happened. Destroyer of peace and harmony.”

Roy flicked his hand, dusting the idea that Thea had been any part of the problem under the imaginary rug in her car. 

“Thea says a lot of shit all the time. She didn’t bother him. What happened when your hung up that turned Oliver Queen into a mope?”

“I understand that you love Thea and will defend her, but let’s not discredit what she says as lighthearted siblings banter.” Roy was in no way affected by her words. 

“Don’t even look at me like that. This is in no way my fault. Ans shouldn’t you be a bit more compassionate if it were? You’re my friend too. Is Oliver higher on your list of support?”

Roy only rubbed his face and sighed dramatically while leaning back into the seat. His response should have been a reassurance that Felicity would have been in his Myspace Top 8 ahead of Oliver if it was still cool. This poor acting was not in any way diffusing the situation. Oliver may be Eeyore, but now Felicity was Rabbit. Rabbit right after Tigger just jumped on his carrots- pissed the hell off. 

“How am I the problem when Oliver’s little ‘Woe is Me’ speech included how his family and friends - AKA you - always thought the worst of him?”

Roy’s head turned in confusion.

“Yeah, that’s right. He said that you guys were disappointed in him. You know what, I’m Team Oliver. You guys are unsupportive and do things like break in people’s cars and tell them that they messed things up without hearing the facts.”

Roy had the decency to apologize to her. He grabbed at her arm and lightly smacked himself with her hand. “I’m sorry. I love you. You’re my number two best friend, but number one is Thea and she doesn’t really count.”

“I promise not to tell her.” Felicity mimed zipping her lips closed. 

“Oh no you don’t. You’re gonna need to start talking so that Uncle Roy can fix this little situation. What else did Oliver say about being the family fuck up?”

“I only agree to speak if you promise to never again refer to yourself as Uncle Roy.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re gonna talk even if I call myself Papa Roy.”

Felicity hummed her disagreement. “Not really sure I could talk while vomiting.”

Roy turned sideways in his chair and nodded. “Out with it.”

Felicity could only shrug. “I don’t really think I was the problem, now that I’m really analyzing  it.”

It was only when she was angry with Roy’s accusations that she really understood what Oliver said before leaving her.

“I think he feels like you guys were purposely keeping me away from him. Because, let’s face it, I know pretty much everyone except for him. Tommy, Dig, even stupid Greg.”

Not even an iron could fix the scrunched up face Roy gave her. “How does Greg fall into that mix?”

“It’s a list of people I know through Thea.”

“Proceed with caution,” he told her with a squint of his eyes. 

“I told Oliver that I didn’t think he would want to come with me, and he was just as upset as if I said I didn’t want to go with him.  He actually said that it didn’t make the situation any better.”

Roy’s only response was a low, “Mmmhm.”

“That’s where I’m sort of lost. If anything I’m dissing myself, right? Why would that upset him?”

Roy played with the center console. “I bet all he heard in his head was you saying, ‘I’m clever and have a bright future, Oliver wouldn’t want anything to do with me.’ It certainly fits the role he thinks we all cast him as.”

He gave a frown of disapproval before continuing. “So Thea made things weird and then what? When you hung up he said that he was the rotten apple of the family and left?”

Felicity nodded. “He said something along the lines of, ‘why are you friends with everyone I know but we’re still strangers’ and then said something about how he thought everyone could see how he’s changed. Then he apologized for making me uncomfortable and left. It was such a mess. We genuinely were having a good time before that.” 

He nudged her leg, “Don’t sound so surprised by that.”

Felicity gave a little huff of a laugh. “If anyone was surprised, I’m sure it was him.”

“Why do you say that?”

Felicity fiddled with her glasses.“I find it very hard to believe that in any of the stories he’s heard about me that my social awkwardness hasn’t been mentioned.”

Roy chuckled. “Awkward to you, endearing to us.”

“It’s only endearing because you love me. I grow on you. Like a rash. I lack a filter and turn many innocent comments into sexual ones. Obviously my best friend’s brother who I can’t help but find attractive would want to avoid that situation, no?”

Roy raised a smug little eyebrow. “I’d say that you would be the one rash Oliver wouldn’t mind finding on himself.”

She definitely blushed. “Roy, please.” 

His tiny self-satisfied smile at embarrassing her turned drained from his face, leaving a very agitated Roy when he asked, “Want to know a secret?” 

“Always.” Roy secrets were usually juicy.

“Thea was right, and I’m going to have to tell her so.”

Felicity tried to read his face for more details. Roy could be powered off the thrill of holding information over your head. Asking for more information than already given might cause his head to over-inflate. 

“Surely telling Thea that she was right about something is your last resort? Maybe I can help you out if you tell me more.” 

He shoved his fist in her face, pinky finger out. 

“If I tell you, you have to promise that you’ll go inside and sit through dinner. I’m not letting you leave.”

Felicity eyed his hand suspiciously. That was a hell of a promise to make. What did Thea do that would annoy her to the point of abandoning dinner plans?

Reluctantly she latched her pinky to his. 

“Thea had plans to set you two up together tonight.”

Their fingers were still intertwined, unfortunately enough. She gripped down with the force of a python. 

“Roy, you’re the voice of reason. Why didn’t you stop her.  I made her promise not to scheme anything up. She looked at me in the eyes and said nothing would be awkward, and now here we are, awkward because you two locked us in the car together.”

Roy finally got his hand back, pinky slightly violet at the lack of blood flow. He shook his hand out. “Hear me out before you do anything drastic!”

“No, you two already did something drastic.” She poked at his bicep.

“The plan was to leave you two alone.”

“I wish your plans always included leaving me alone.”

Roy grabbed her hands. “Oliver went rogue on us. We didn’t factor him jumping into your car. That was completely unplanned. If she used that beautifully large brain of hers and followed her own rules for the night, she would have never called you, and where would you be right now?”

If Thea hadn’t called, Felicity would most likely be inside. With Oliver. Things wouldn’t have been weird and she would most likely have been smitten by then. Well, even more smitten. 

“I wouldn’t be sitting in the car right now if she never called.”

“Exactly.”

“Rooooy,” she whined. “Please don’t tell her I like him. Today will be ruined. My life will  be ruined. I’ll have to move.”

He grabbed at her hand again, this time rubbing soothingly along her knuckles. “Listen to me. I will only tell her she’s right about leaving you two alone being the best option. I have to tell her she was right because she fucked up. Understand?”

“Sure, I understand that incredibly backwards thinking. She was right because she was wrong?”

“If she just left you alone about Oliver, like planned, everything would be fine. Now she’s inside, away from me, the voice of reason as you just said. She’s probably coming up with an actual scheme to force you two together. She may think the best option is to lock you in a pantry. Uncle Roy needs to tell her she was right in the first place and let nature take its course.”

Felicity banged her blonde locks against the headrest with a whimper. “Let’s just get this over with.”

She took a deep breath before exiting the car. “What kind of idiots make a plan where there is no plan?”

She shut the car door and headed towards the entrance of the incredibly foreboding Queen mansion. 

“The kind of idiots that are gonna matchmake your ungrateful ass,” Roy chuckled to himself before following her to the front door.  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New username, who dis? 
> 
> Long time no write and I'm so super sorry. There was nothing coming out of my brain to write. It was all crap. And this chapter may be evident of that. They say you never forget how to ride a bike, but they don't tell you that your grip on those handlebars may be a bit shaky when you don't ride in a while. I just felt that I had to get something out NOW, and I had a block of free time at work, so I popped this out. 
> 
> If for some reason I take super long to write again, please feel free to write a comment like "WHERE ARE YOU?! GET TO WORK." I promise I will not be offended! It is pure inspiration for me to get writing. I am motivated by guilt (thanks Ma!) I will never consciously abandon this story, even if you want me to! 
> 
> So thank you for sticking with me, (or for taking a chance on this story if you've never read this before!) You are the best! I hope you enjoyed :) Until next time


	9. Are Cocktail Hours Usually This Long?

It turns out that storming away from a situation loses dramatic flair when you end up waiting for whoever you ditched. And if Roy Harper is the man you were temporarily escaping from, expect him to walk towards you at a leisurely pace and in no way ruffled by your storming. He also may slow down on arrival to totally and completely drive you banana sandwich.

“Anxious much?” He might have the nerve to ask you, with a stupid smirk on his face.

“The quicker we get in there the sooner I can get out.” She accented her words while pointing to the door and and then thumbing behind her.

“Call me crazy, but I think normal people leave after dinner. And dinner starts when everyone is at the table. Judging by the cars here, we’re still waiting on Tommy and Laurel. So, really the sooner th-”

“Nobody likes a smartass, Roy.” She lacked the confidence for that jab, seeing how it was a very Felicity kind of answer that he gave.

He walked past her, opening the door without knocking or ringing.

He pulled at her wrist once he passed the threshold, then continued to push at her back until they were far enough in the house that she could see more than just the foyer, because of course there was a foyer.

Walter was the first to greet her, which Roy was thankful for. Moira fed on anxious energy, and no matter how “laidback” she’d become since he first met her, Moira was still not going to be the one to put Felicity at ease.   

“Felicity, so good to see you,” was all Roy heard before sneaking off to find Thea. Felicity was in good hands. She would be comfortable talking shop with Walter. When Moira would inevitably show up, Felicity’s confidence would be strong enough to not shove two heeled feet into her mouth. Hopefully. And if not, Walter was there. He had bigger marshmallows to roast.

Roy followed his instincts and entered the sitting room. He learned to step up his room naming game. It was still a little weird calling it a sitting room instead of living room, but it was nowhere near as pretentious as calling it a parlor.

Thea was making herself a drink from a beverage cart ( _beverage cart?_   Oh, Roy of the past, where have you gone?) while Oliver sat swirling whatever was in his glass.

“What are we toasting to tonight?”

Both Queens seemed to be surprised by his entrance.

The scoff Thea gave was enough to gauge the situation, but she continued on, “My brother being a pain in the ass.”

Oliver raised his glass in a salute and Roy had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

“Pour me something weak while you’re over there, please.”

Thea snorted. “You’re gonna need something strong if you’re going to convince Felicity to come in.”

Roy was waiting for this. He was haughty by nature, but having the _excuse_ to be smug was an entirely different thrill.

He put on a little confused face. “She’s inside chilling.”

The siblings gave identical shocked expressions.

Thea was already on alert. She must’ve known he was up to something. Good. He needs his teammate.

“You left her alone with my mother?” Oliver choked out.

“Yeah, and I let her cross the street without holding my hand these days, too. Calm down Oliver, she’s good.”

Oliver relaxed into his seat. “Silly me, it’s only my company that she’s uncomfortable around.”

Thea opened her mouth to yell, but before anything could come out, she saw the expression on Roy’s face. It screamed, “Let me handle this.”

Not one to concede power so quickly, Thea raised her eyebrow questioningly. Temptingly (not in the seductive way he enjoyed, more in the ‘Try me, bitch’ way, that he didn’t hate to see on her either).

Roy walked over to the ice bucket next to Thea. “She’s uncomfortable around everyone. Don’t feel so special.”

Oliver’s facial expression could be photographed right now and it would spread across the internet with captions like, “My liver when I say I’m only going to have one drink tonight,” and “When my mom says she’ll only be a minute in the store.” Pure disbelief.

“Felicity spends most of her days afraid that she has or in the future will make other people uncomfortable.”

Oliver looked to Thea, trying to gauge her reaction. Even if she was confused about Roy’s more than obvious plans, she would never let Oliver see that they weren’t on the same page. Love and support while coming up with semi-lies on the spot, could he ask for a better girlfriend? She gave Roy a pinch on the ass- warning him that when the opportunity arises, he better tell her what’s happening.

“She does this counting thing in her head when she says something...odd,” Thea explained. “And I promised her that I would make sure she didn’t embarrass herself tonight. Which is why you jumping into her car doesn’t exactly place me on best friend of the month.”

Roy continued his magic. “Come on, I find it hard to believe you spent more than ten minutes with her and she didn’t say anything sexually suggestive.”

Something seemed to click with Oliver, so Roy pressed on. “Felicity has the ability to make any harmless phrase sound like you read it in _Penthouse._ And no filter.”

“She might’ve made a joke or two,” Oliver agreed cautiously. “But it was painless, really.”

Roy pointed the silver ice tongs at Oliver. “See. She’s probably going to pull Thea aside later and beg her to tell you she didn’t mean anything by it, especially since you just jumped out of her car and hid in here.”

“Because I thought she was trying to avoid me,” Oliver said through his teeth.

“I mean, we just established she was trying to avoid you,” Roy said, stirring the boiling pot of grease just a little bit more.

Oliver sat forward sharply, “Avoiding me for reasons other than automatically thinking I’m the same shithead I was when I was young!”

JACKPOT.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Thea stage whispered.

Oliver ignored his sister completely, choosing instead to focus all of his attention on Roy. “What did she say about me?”

They were edging too close towards intervening, which Roy wanted terribly to avoid. “Oh no. I’m not playing this game. Next you’ll have me passing her notes.”

“I’m just trying to avoid any more awkwardness,” Oliver told him honestly.

“‘I’m sorry I jumped out of your car,’ seems like a good opener.”  It also seemed to be the least invasive response Roy could give.

“‘I’m sorry that I jumped into your car after the only real conversation we’ve ever had was on a video chat for all of two minutes this morning,’ also seems like a good starter,” Thea added snarkily.

Oliver winced. “Okay, I can see where my actions contributed to the awkwardness. But,” he sighed, “I just feel like I’ve known her forever.”

Unsure what to say, and realizing that Thea only wanted to kick her heels in joy at Oliver’s confession, Roy tried to think of an exit strategy.

“Well,” Roy looked at the time on his phone, “I feel like we’ve been _talking_ about this forever. When are we eating?”

It was clear that Oliver wasn’t listening. “Maybe I should talk to her before dinner. Her first family dinner and she’s probably already planning on never coming back.” He was talking to himself more than the couple in front of him.

Oliver placed his glass on a coaster and stood. “I’m gonna just-” And he left.

It was three seconds before Thea slugged Roy in the stomach.

“What was that?” Thea asked mystified. That he could still surprise her in their relationship was endearing.

“You just witnessed a little bit of Uncle Roy magic.”

“Uncle Roy better explain soon before Aunt Thea shoves a foot up his ass.”

He looked at her feet. “Those are white shoes. You sure you want to mess them up?”

“Roy,” she threatened.

He finally gave in. “You were right in thinking they need to be left alone.”

“Yeah,” she asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. He thought you had your little phone freak out because she was too good to hang around him.”

“Avoiding him because he was a shithead, huh?” She echoed from the conversation earlier.

He hummed in response.

“I guess berating him wasn’t the best way to go, then?” Thea was visibly annoyed with herself. She clenched her fists and scrunched up her face.

Roy grabbed her neck, rubbing soothingly at her cheeks with his thumbs. “That’s what you have me for.” It could have been a sweet sentiment, but Roy was too cocky for it to be anything other than a brag.

Thea pulled away from him. “What’s the plan now, oh great one?”

It didn’t matter that she was being sarcastic, all Roy heard was how fantastic he was.

“Stick to the original plan. Let them work it out. But along the way we remind Oliver that he isn’t in fact a dickhead, and we don’t let Felicity realize you know about the crush she has on Oliver.”

“THE WHAT?!” Thea shrieked. It was only partially said aloud. Roy was quick to muffle her mouth with his hand.

“Thea, if you’re going to be working with Uncle Roy, you need to learn how to be chill.”

 

♛♥

 

Oliver all but sprinted from the sitting room. Turns out Felicity didn’t automatically discredit him as a jackass earlier this evening. No, she came to that conclusion herself after he evacuated her car like it was on fire… because he thought she pegged him as a dick from the beginning.

Was irony the right word to describe the situation?

He spotted her talking to his mother and Walter, hands flying everywhere. Despite the high energy Felicity naturally exuded, all three seemed to be comfortable. The same way she was in the second half of their journey.

Turns out that some people need a real conversation or two to feel at ease with strangers. Huh, what a novel idea, Oliver, he admonished himself.

He realized that he may have been a little impulsive with forming his conclusions about Felicity and her mindset. Of course she called Thea panicky earlier. Felicity was coming to her first family dinner and her two closest friends weren’t there. Naturally, Felicity would want to talk to someone she knew well,and knew her. If worrying about what came out of her mouth was something on her mind often, she would want to be with people who understood her. Looking back, he could recognize that she wasn’t really as confident when they first started talking as when they were on their way home.

Oliver could suddenly remember with deep clarity that Felicity tried to stop Thea from yelling at him during their call. Thea, damn her, was a good friend through and through. She had Felicity’s best interest at heart. Even if she wasn’t aware of everything that transpired during their mini road trip. Thea didn’t know that they were having a good time. All she knew is that her annoying big brother basically held her slightly self conscious friend hostage.

Oliver walked over to his mother and stepfather, thinking of a suave way to get Felicity alone so he could apologize.

He caught his mother’s eye, but before she could invite him into the conversation, the front door opened and Tommy’s head popped through.

Laurel was behind him, audibly berating him for opening the door like he lived there. Her laughter was the only thing stopping her threats from being taken seriously.  Tommy childishly ignored her, by covering his ear closest to her.

Tommy made eye contact with Oliver and smiled broadly. “What’s the point of asking me what I’m going to drink if it’s not waiting for me when I walk in, Ollie?”

Felicity, now aware of Oliver’s presence, turned to give him a weak smile.

Oliver barely heard his mother making a less than flattering comment about his skills as a good host. He was too busy thinking about how he could have some one on one time with Felicity without everyone making a big deal about it.

For a house this huge, it was certainly starting to suffocate him.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out you guys didn't forget this story existed! I'm suddenly waiting for the comment that says, "I didn't forget about it, but seeing how long it took to get chapter 8 out, it seems like you did." 
> 
> I planned on making this chapter include the dinner, because:  
> 1.) This is an Oliver/Felicity story but there's hardly any Oliver and Felicity together. WTF? They need to be brought back.  
> 2.) Posting tiny chapters is annoying, I get it.
> 
> BUT:
> 
> I painted myself in a corner here. There is a lot of people at this dinner. So many that I'm a little overwhelmed by how I'm going to have to write for all of them. It's been noted before that when I write conversations they can get a little confusing trying to figure out who's speaking. Maybe if I read a good book every once in a while I'd see the proper way of getting it done. But until that day, I'm just going to keep working at it until I get something I'm okay with posting. I'm happy with this chapter and the good vibes will keep me motivated to work out how to manage all these characters. I'm that too many limes guy.


	10. Skid Free Big Girl Panties

It would be impolite for Felicity to say she was expecting the worst from Moira Queen. It would be honest, but not polite. The few times Felicity had met her, the conversation was limited to, “Hello darling,” (referring to Thea) “Nice to see you, too, dear,” (referring to Felicity) before asking them to excuse her while she frightened interns and admonished waitstaff.

When the formidable current head of Queen Consolidated joined in on her conversation with Walter, Felicity had a little greeting prepared. It was short, sweet, and most importantly, it was safe. “Hello Mrs.Queen, thank you for inviting me to dinner.” Nowhere in there was, “Wow, your house is huge,” or “Your children are slowly driving me insane.” A little thank you to the hostess for the invitation. It may have been a lie, but, “Thank you for letting me crash your dinner,” wasn’t graceful and poised. Felicity hardly got the “Mrs.” out of her mouth before _Moira_ pulled her in for a double cheeked kiss and told her that there was no need to use formalities.

Things only got better once Felicity presented the candle. Moira gushed over the hard to pronounce scent name and mentioned that it was just released.  Felicity would have noticed the “New” plaque on Rotham’s display case if she hadn’t been watching Oliver’s face scrunch up with distaste at all the other aromas. Felicity (and Oliver) must have made the right choice, because Moira mentioned how she wished Felicity would have joined them sooner.

If you want to appease the gods and other supreme beings, you give an offering. Poseidon just wanted a Cretan bull (not an imposter!), Ix Chel is fond of fruit and copal incense, and Moira Queen, as it turns out, is very pleased by candles. *Note that it hasn’t been determined yet if _all_ candles satisfy her, but luxury candles from Rotham’s seem to do the trick. Do not, I repeat, do not expect the same favorable conditions if your offerings include ten for a dollar unscented tealights.

Moira even went on to use the exact phrase, “You’re always welcome in our home.” The true power of Scandinavian heath scented candles.

Despite her eased nerves from Moira’s hospitality, Felicity still felt a twinge of anxiety when she sensed Oliver walk into the room. _Eased_ nerves, not _eliminated_ nerves. She was doing her best to not let his presence throw off the 10 minute normal streak she was having today (New Personal Record). Moira looked ready to call him over when even more divine intervention took place in the form of Tommy Merlyn.

Tommy Merlyn. 

Patron Saint of Distractions.

Master of all sidetracking maneuvers.

Felicity’s new best friend.

Don’t let the implication of ‘best friend’ confuse you. He was only temporarily gifted with that title. And it was only because he had the power to keep Oliver’s attention away from any painfully embarrassing conversations with her. God knows what Thea said to him. Probably told him he had to apologize and made him feel worse. He might even say something about regrets, which would kind of suck. She genuinely had a good time before his sister, Felicity’s former best friend, called the cockblock hotline. Not that there was any cock to block! Just in the sense that she ruined any fun that could have occured in terms of friendship and enjoyable conversations. The funsucker hotline! Here to vacuum up any and all amusement.

There’s no need to clear any air right now, Oliver. Your mother probably has a state of the art filtration system hooked up. And the elephant in the room doesn’t need to be mentioned. This isn’t a nature documentary, even though he could probably rock the shit out of an old-timey khaki safari suit and pith helmet.

She knew at some point she would need to have a little chat with Oliver, even to just reassure him that his family loves him. But that conversation didn’t have to happen now. If Larry of the mythical Perfect Timing Inc could schedule an appointment for right before she goes home and never has to see him again, that would be perfect.

Tommy’s entrance was marked by asking Oliver for a drink. If he could ask Oliver to help him solve a ten thousand piece jigsaw puzzle next, Felicity would consider commissioning a statue in his honor. Poor Laurel would have to deal with his ego after that, but it was a price Felicity was willing to pay. In cash. Right away. No need to even go to the register for a receipt.

Moira greeted the couple then tutted at her son with a smile. “Oliver, really. I dread the day you have to hold any sort of event. Imagine the chaos.”

“It just means I have more room to grow,” Oliver said distractedly. “So the usual for you two,” he pointed at Laurel and Tommy, “and what can I get for you, Felicity?”

“Don’t worry about me, I can get something later.”  Hopefully he only heard the beginning of that sentence. Don’t worry about anything Thea might have said to you. You were fine. This is perfectly fine. We’re all fine here today.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he insisted. He was being way too intense for a man taking a drink order. The average server barely looks you in the eye.

“Dinner is sure to start soon now that Tommy managed to finally grace us with his presence. You’ll need a drink with your meal,” he reasoned. “What are you in the mood for?”

A dangerous question. She was in the mood for locking herself in a closet, ALONE, but she was here instead. Thanks a lot Roy and his pinky swears. She was in the mood for having friends with normal families. Or, maybe just normal friends, to start with. But he was right. She would at some point tonight need a drink. Unless the Queens installed a self service soda fountain somewhere, she would need some assistance with getting herself a beverage. Where do they keep cups? Glasses? Stemware? Did everyone’s need to match? Besides, she should be thankful that he was just ignoring any weirdness, and not trying to get her alone to apologize.  

“You can come have a look with me,” Oliver started to say before Tommy walked over and mussed Felicity’s hair. A true best friend, scenting out anxiety and swooping in.  “I’ll make sure he opens something good for you,” He told Felicity. “Expensive, too.”

Felicity nearly choked on her own saliva.  “Anything’s fine, really.” And two best friend points have been deducted from your total score, by the way.

Tommy snorted. “ _Anything_ ,” he mocked. “Please. I know what she likes,” he told Oliver matter-of-factly. If Tommy hadn’t _distracted_ her so thoroughly, she would have seen Oliver’s annoyance shining through, even if she couldn’t decipher what it meant. Tommy, on the other hand, saw it, knew what it meant, and nearly laughed in his best friend’s face.

Tommy turned her around by her shoulders and gave her a slight push. “Go talk to Laurel about how awful I am. And then tell her about your boring date with whatshisface,” he said while walking away with a slightly tense Oliver.

It was a hasty decision to name Tommy as her new best friend. She should have known he would throw a wrench, some hammers, and an articulated saw into the mix. There was no need to bring Greg up. It wasn’t necessary for everyone in a 30 mile radius to know that she went on a regrettable lunch outing with Thea’s acquaintance's brother.

“Believe it or not, Tommy, we are capable of a conversation that doesn’t revolve around men,” Laurel called to him while turning herself to Felicity with a smile and friendly, “Hey.”

Felicity had been down this road before, approximately 25 seconds before, but she thought maybe this time, naming someone her new best friend would work out. Laurel has a good head on her shoulders. An attractive and intelligent head. A head she could proudly add to her collection, in an non-serial killer way. She is good best friend material.

“Please tell me you’re going to come to these more often,” Laurel said pleadingly.

Felicity just shrugged, secretly happy that her new best friend wanted her to be around. It was promising. “I’m not making any plans until I see if I survive tonight,” she said, hoping that maybe best friend intuition would reveal that she wanted Laurel to offer an escape route.

Laurel just laughed and squeezed Felicity’s bicep lightly. “You’re fine.” So Laurel wasn’t a top tier friend yet, but with time she could be. There was potential. Reassurance and comfort are valued, but not what Felicity was looking for right now. Or maybe they were, but in a different way. Felicity wanted commiseration. A little, “Ugh, I know. I would rather be at home under a blanket watching reruns.”

Thea walked breezily into the room, Roy right beside her. Like an evil power couple in a cartoon. Perfect for eachother, absolute misery for anyone they focus their energy on. Which at this moment seemed to be either Laurel or Felicity. It was impossible to tell who they were looking at.

“The boys pulling out their LEGO sets already,” Thea asked Laurel with a kiss on the cheek.

“Hopefully they do that _after_ they get us drinks.” Laurel lifted her empty hands to Thea, who chuckled lightly in response.

Felicity nodded at Roy. “No LEGO for you?” It seemed like Oliver and Tommy used family dinner as an excuse for a playdate, even if Thea was joking about them pulling out toys.

“They tell me I can separate the bags and then never let me help,” he said with a over exaggerated pout.

“Story of my life,” Felicity huffed out. “Then they say it’s hide and seek time, until you hide and they never seek. I don’t miss school at all.”

Three pairs of concerned eyes looked her way. Right. These were all popular kids. Kids who got picked first for sports. Kids who didn’t blurt out decades old emotional trauma at a family dinner. Although, Oliver did like to bring up his own self-worth issues in cars. So maybe they were kind of perfect for eachother. As friends of course. Because they are two people who have a lot in common- like friends, neighborhoods, and like… other things.

Thea pulled Felicity to her, nearly breaking ribs in a tight hug. “You’re worth the whole damn bunch put together.”

Why in the name of foreboding hell did those words have to come out of her mouth? Something absolutely catastrophic _could_ happen tonight.

“Thea, I love you,” Felicity wheezed out, “but why would you quote _The Great Gatsby_ at me right now.”

Thea winced. “Don’t you dare take that as a bad omen. You’re gonna have a great time. The worst is behind you, and it wasn’t even that bad.”

Beside them, Laurel lightly poked Roy in confusion. Thea’s pep talk was sure to pique her curiosity, which would enevitably lead to a rehashing of the entire afternoon leading up to dinner. Felicity might as well wear a sign on her neck, “Ask Me How I Embarrassed Oliver and Myself!” On the back, or in tiny writing below, “Don’t have the time? Take a pamphlet.”

“Typical Queen shit, you know how they are,” Roy told Laurel. It must’ve been enough information for Laurel because she nodded in understanding, not questioning anything further. Or she was just being nice and would grill everyone later. Law school style, divide and conquer.

Thea felt Felicity slump in her grasp. She pulled away only so that she could look Felicity in the eyes. Whatever Thea saw there made her pull Felicity into a corner. Away from certain attorney eyes and ears.

“Listen, Oliver said he wanted to apologize to you, and I agreed that it was a good idea. If you want me to pull him aside and tell him to back off, I can do that too.”

Felicity eyed her suspiciously. “I want you to do the opposite of whatever plan you and Roy came up with just now.”

“If that’s an accusation, I’m going to need you to state it formally.”

“You and Roy came up with some elaborate plan to get me and Oliver together. You both discussed this plan when you were inside alone. I’m warning you that whatever you have planned is stupid. Stop it and don’t make me uncomfortable at dinner tonight.”

“So let me get this straight,” Thea ran her tongue over her teeth. “I was with my boyfriend in a room alone and you think I was discussing you and my brother?”

Felicity didn’t fall for Thea’s tactics, nor did she cower down. “Since I know you get off on scheming , yes, I do believe you were planning something alone with Roy. I know you had something planned before, because Roy himself told me so.”

“Did he now.” Thea maliciously eyed Roy from their hiding spot. “He didn’t mention that.”

Felicity perked up. “If he didn’t mention that, what did he mention?”

“He said that Ollie was worried about us viewing him as the family’s black sheep.” It was a good answer, but Thea took a half second too long to respond. Almost like she knew some more juicy gossip that she wanted to say first, but couldn’t.

“And that’s all?”

“Yup.” It would have fooled anyone other than Felicity. There was something about her eye contact that wasn’t right.

Felicity made a move towards Roy, mumbling threats about releasing a virtual hell on him before Thea grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“Roy and I made no further plans. Honest. He _may_ have said that he thought you and Oliver were into each other, though. He made me promise to not do anything stupid, which I would never do anyway. And Oliver wanted to apologize for jumping into your car without having a real conversation with you.” Thea rushed all of that out in one breath. “Oh, and we told Oliver that you get uncomfortable with people you don’t know well, and it’s not just him. That’s everything out in the open.”

She held her hands up in a pose of surrender.

Felicity slumped, completely resigned. Of course anything admitted to Roy would make its way to Thea. “Did he pull that Uncle Roy bullshit?”

“Yeah, where did that come from, by the way?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sickened by it.” Felicity went to rub her eyes, before she remembered the slight makeup she put on for tonight and looked at the floor in agony. “What’s the most effective way to escape this house in heels,” Felicity asked, completely unaware of who was behind her.

“I’d say the front door. Mom and Dad never stopped me before.”

Felicity gasped like she was in a daytime soap opera at the sight of Oliver with a glass of wine in each hand.

“But I’m really hoping you won’t desert us until you hear me out first,” Oliver continued on.

Felicity looked to Thea to see if maybe she had an Oliver whistle she used to secretly call him over. Unfortunately, Thea seemed to be just as surprised by her brother’s appearance as Felicity was.

Before Felicity could tell Oliver to hold the bloodhounds, there was no breakouts happening, he eyed his sister up. “Give us a minute,” he told her.

Thea’s eyes jumped between the pair. She was obviously not going to go anywhere until Felicity gave her approval, so Oliver tried a different method. He instead turned his back to Thea, focusing entirely on Felicity as if Thea had already left.

“We were doing fine until Thea involved herself before, and I promise we’ll be fine again. Just a minute, please. I want the both of us to enjoy the rest of the evening without any awkwardness.”

Felicity still gave him no response. She could only look at him, biting her lower lip out of anxiety.

“Ignoring me and the situation won’t make either go away,” he said with a smirk.

She could only sigh. A real sucker for a handsome face, she was. “What do you know about avoidance techniques,” she asked.

A bright smile lit his face up. “I know enough.”

Ugh, he was one of _those_ people underneath it all. One of those “address the issue before it gets worse” kind. Proactive, and take-charge, and not at all delaying of awful shit. Felicity was a procrastinator of the emotional kind only, or as Thea liked to call her- a chicken shit.

She turned to Thea, who tried to look like she was upset by the turn of events, but failed miserably. “You can scram, I guess,” Felicity told her before turning back to Oliver.

She took a deep breath, still looking him in the eyes- chicken shit who? “For me,” she asked him, pointing to the wine glass. Thea was skipping away at this point, like the little brat she was.

Oliver nodded, but held the glass just out of her reach. “If you promise not to chug it, I’ll give it to you.”

Felicity rolled her eyes, but made an X over her heart. “There,” she told him, with a hint of playful annoyance. Who was this impish woman? Just two minutes ago she was shitting her pants and one dimpled cute smile later she’s a flirt.

He passed over the glass with a chuckle, sliding his hand to her lower back and leading her to a patio door.

“If I can make it through without skulling a drink, you can too.”

“Fine, we’re in this together,” she agreed.

His smile was blinding now. “So good to have you on the team.”

She almost forgot what she was so antsy about. What awkward conversation? Roy the blabbermouth who?

She was feeling confident and cool. Of course she and Oliver could have a conversation like adults. Because that’s what they are. He would apologize for being slightly eccentric in the way that all Queens apparently are and they could move forward, have a nice dinner, and she wouldn’t want to rip her hair out the next time she had to see him.

“Why didn’t you tell me to get out of your car?”

And just like that, all sense of security was gone.  Because how could anyone possibly say, “You’re so ridiculously attractive and make me feel almost comically nervous,”?

Oliver’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. Apparently inside thoughts never stay that way with Felicity Smoak. Such a shame too, those beautiful eyes he has belong in a skull and not rolling on the floor.

How could anyone possibly say that out loud, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I Have Given Up On  
> 1\. Giving Accurate Chapter Update Time Frames- lmao why do I even try? I am a legitimate liar.  
> 2\. Giving Accurate Chapter Information- Any plans I have at all disappear once I start to write. Chapter outline, who?
> 
> Things I Have NOT Given Up On  
> 1\. This story (NEVER EVER EVER!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy this update if you're still invested in this. You're all great! :)


	11. Conversation, More Like ConverPAINsion

 

 

_Why? The Life Story of Felicity Smoak_

“Chapter One: Vocal Cords, The Biological Noose”

 

What would you do? Sometimes that phrase is said with hostility, telling the listener that they could in no way have made a better decision. Felicity, however would scream it out in desperation, begging for inspiration from anyone anywhere on what to do in tortuously humiliating situations.

Requesting ideas isn’t always the most helpful. Sure, you may be given suggestions that spark your own creativity, but the likelihood of anything valuable being said by an audience is slim. If Felicity had an audience besides just her and Oliver, she would probably end up being told to run away through the back garden, heels be damned. Or better yet, the ever-so-helpful spectator would recommend incorporating the heels into the entire process. It may hinder her running ability, leaving Oliver able to catch her, but _will he_? Would you chase after someone who was slowly running through the grass, feet stuck in the turf with every step? Felicity certainly wouldn’t.

The image described wasn’t a comfortable one to watch. Imagine the yelling, hand waving, and stuck feet. Anyone who was willing to look that absurd, and go through that much cardio was better off being left alone. A perfect escape mechanism is to look as crazy and untouchable as possible. She could run across a lawn slowly and with great effort just to show Oliver that she isn’t worth chasing. “Better leave that one alone,” he would say. “Maybe she has rabies.”

Again, this is not the best suggestion, but it is one that could be given when you ask strangers for options on what to do.  Felicity, being so hard up for inspiration would have toyed with the idea. Truly, the only thing that was stopping her from the green pastures of the Queen Mansion was that she had nowhere to run to. This was a gated home. On one hand, that only adds to the insane-o-meter.  She could run around the perimeter while Oliver would just watch, with 50% horror, 40% confusion, 9.9% fear, and .1% amusement. After she ran out of energy (knowing her- one lap), she would return to the patio with sweat on her brow and grass on her heels. Dinner would in no way be any better with the inclusion of lawn and perspiration, but he would be weirded out and not eager to speak to her at all. Not the worst plan, but she had a better one.

Clearly, the superior option was to play the “misheard” game.

You’re so ridiculously attractive and make me feel almost comically nervous?

No, what she actually said was:

You’re so magnetically attractive and made my car door automatically close.

They’re similar. Really similar. Bordering on workable as far as how alike they sound.

With every great con, it’s about the timing. In order for this one to work, she couldn’t just scream the imposter phrase out. It wouldn’t magically crush the other words she said. She would just have to wait for Oliver to question her, or ask her to repeat herself.

Unaware that Felicity was waiting for him to stick to a vaguely scripted response, he acted rogue.

His initial shock turned contemplative.

“Nobody’s ever told me that I make them nervous before.”

Felicity snorted so loud, she was sure a herd of horses would show up looking for their long lost sister.

“I doubt that very much,” she told him before remembering that she was not supposed to admit to anything related to that outburst.

Making quick work of a denial, she tried her best to look confused. “Who said that you make them nervous, by the way?” Her acting was atrocious. Absolutely too choppy of a delivery and her body language was screaming out, “robot.”

The confusion on Oliver’s face was what she should have looked like. In all fairness, he had the advantage of _actually_ being perplexed.

“Because I didn’t say nervous,” she insisted. “I said, ‘close’ as in, ‘You’re so magnetically attractive and made my car door automatically close.’ That’s what I said to you. Just now. I said that. After you asked me why I didn’t kick you out.”

It wasn’t believable. At all. But she made a decision and had to stick to it.

“Felicity,” Oliver said softly. With his tone alone, he let her know that he did not believe her response.

She squeezed her eyes tightly together.

“Please,” she begged, “that’s what I said.”  Her eyes opened again. This time with strength and conviction in there. “I said that bit about the car and nothing else.”

Oliver nodded.

“I’m a real menace with refrigerators,” he said after a beat of silence. Silence that nearly had Felicity racing for the grass.

At his words, hope bloomed on her face so clearly it made him smile. “Because you’re so magnetic,” she asked quietly.

Oliver gave a little scoff. “Well it’s not my attractive face, because I don’t have one of those.”

His teeny smirk kept her from being horrified. He was teasing her, the jerk.

She wasn’t as annoyed as she thought she would be. It was his irritatingly handsome face. Science proved it- attractive people get away with things more often than everyone else. Her face must’ve shown disbelief at his cheeky response.

He raised his shoulders to let her know he wasn’t apologizing for his boldness. “It’s nice to get compliments every once in awhile, even if I have to fish for them.” He took a sip of his wine, looking directly into her eyes, daring her. To do what, she wasn’t sure at the moment. But it was a challenge, and she hardly stepped away from those.

“It’s not fishing for compliments when I’m just bombarding you with them unasked.”

Unfortunately her need to meet a challenge made her slip up a bit.

Oliver scrunched his face up in feigned confusion that was still better than Felicity’s fake puzzled look. “When did you do that? Before or after talking about your car doors?”

Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but she came up with nothing. He had her there.

Oliver chuckled at her inability to worm her way out of the compost heap she created.

“You suck.” She told him plainly. Somehow she wasn’t as nervous as she was before, even with both of them acknowledging without _really_ acknowledging that she called him attractive.

The sound of his low rumbling laugh was overpowered by Tommy’s shouts of dinner being ready from inside.

Neither of them broke eye contact.

“You know Thea’s going to have us sit next to each other, right?” He didn’t sound annoyed or resigned. He was just warning her, probably bracing himself for another freak out. But this was a whole different Felicity he was dealing with.

She sipped her wine and nodded along. “Statistically the person to the left or right of the person sitting across from you is who you engage with the most.”

“So I’m ditched for a diagonal, huh? How is a guy supposed to compete with that?”

Felicity shrugged. “I guess you don’t have as much of a magnetic sense as I thought.” With a pat to his shoulder, she made her way inside.

But before she could count her victory of having the last word and leaving him behind, he called out softly to her.

“I guess being ridiculously attractive gets you nowhere these days.”

She stopped short, but still mindful of the very volatile staining agent in her glass. Wine stains are for amateurs.

Oliver caught up to her and gave her a playful nudge. “We’ll get there,” he told her.

“The table? Because it’s only a few yards away,” she snickered.

He led her along to the table where his family gathered. “One day you’ll be comfortable to tell me anything that’s on your mind. We’ll get there,” he promised.

He was really good at getting the last word in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro: This is _technically_ less than a week since my last post.  
>  Cons: 1. It's short. 2. The chapter title is actually the stupidest one I've done yet.
> 
> But it's a happy Friday for me, so I'm pumped anyway! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. Starling Syndrome: The Titular Chapter?

There are people in the world that have a response ready for everything. Absolute lunatics with the ability to not only automatically reply to all that is thrown at them, but to make it as classy/witty/devastating as they want. Felicity certainly wasn’t one of them, but stars above, did she wish that she was. 

Instead of telling Oliver one of the several million unfinished thoughts swirling around her brain about how wrong he was, she could only walk alongside him, gaping slightly as he led her to the dining room. Her silence probably made him believe she was taking his words to heart. Which she wasn’t. She was absolutely not thinking too seriously about the claims he made. Because who says stuff like that? None of the men she’d ever dated, some of which she’d known for years before, had never made promises that bold. It was a smidge cocky, but entirely confident and also  _ very  _ much working for her. Or at least it would work for her, if she were thinking about it, which she wasn’t. 

Besides, being uncomfortable is not a lifestyle choice, it’s a sentence, Oliver. One that she’s been chained to forever.

Like most things Queen, the sight of the dining room shocked her. Felicity expected a record scratch, dropped crystal, and wide eyed stares when entering the dining room with Oliver. She dreaded that as they sat down in their uncomfortable and formal seats, Thea would whisper/sing childhood taunts about the non-paired pair sitting in trees. But instead of waking into a quiet, judgy audience, Oliver and Felicity walked into a zoo that she didn’t remember buying a ticket for, and animals who didn’t even know they had visitors.

The dining room table was round. In whatever fantasy nightmare she imagined, a round table would never have made an appearance. It seemed... Too modern? How can something from Arthurian legend be seen as modern, but it did. But then again, you only have so many options for a table. They must cycle through what’s contemporary. Square, rectangle, circle, oval. Regardless of what’s fashionable, she expected Moira Queen (not Queen-Steel, or Steel, or any other variation because the woman is running a multi-billion dollar company and is keeping that name- she asked Thea earlier this evening) to have a table with a head. The traditional rectangle table flows with what little dinner etiquette Felicity knows. Host sits at one end, guest of honor sits to the right of the host. Don’t bring  your cocktail to the dinner table because the glass crowds the place setting. And that concluded what she knew about dinner etiquette, unless The Unsinkable Molly Brown in  _ Titanic _ was right and silverware is used from the outside working in. 

Oliver led Felicity to the empty seat next to his sister. The only acknowledgement Thea gave Felicity was a little pat on the chair inviting her to sit. There was no mocking or teasing. There were cocktail glasses, however, so apparently traditional dinner protocol just didn’t exist in this house.

Before Felicity could celebrate not having to worry about putting her elbows on the table, Oliver pulled out the seat for her with a cute little smile. Welcome back from the dead, etiquette.

As soon as the blood stopped rushing to her head in an annoying  _ woosh _ ing sound (why does a man pulling a chair out for her induce blushing anyway?), Felicity could understand some of the chattering around her.

Tommy was insisting that it was his punch that gave 12 year old Oliver a black eye ,while everyone else, apart from a chuckling Walter, insisted otherwise.

Tommy shook his head indignantly. “You weren’t there. None of you were there.” 

“I was there,” Laurel said with a roll of her eyes while Tommy continued to rant on.

“You weren’t even conceived, Roy, so how would you know?” 

Roy snorted. “I’m not that young, Tommy. And even a five year old me would have known that you couldn’t bruise a peach.”

Oliver leaned over to whisper in Felicity’s ear, “I kneed myself in the face when we were wrestling. Ever since then he’s been convinced that he’s Rocky.”

The immediate impulse to check out Oliver’s broad shoulders and thick arms was not halted in any way. He was a giant mass of muscle. She just checked him out like a weirdo at a family dinner. There was no need to check him out. It wasn’t adult Oliver and Tommy that were fighting, in which case appraising his physique would be more scientific. 

Like a childish idiot, she shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. It only succeeded in making a spectacle that Oliver noticed. He gave her a little smirk like the annoying hotshot that he was.

“Hotshot,” he asked quietly, with Tommy yelling something in the background about ferocious fists. With a challenging raised eyebrow he told her, “I think I like it.”

Trying to fight the embarrassment she felt, Felicity fixed him with the toughest look she could muster, totally invalidated by rosy cheeks and playful eyes. “You better watch it, pal, or it’ll be very clear who gave you your next black eye.”

“Myself again, I’d guess,” he ribbed.

Lost in the little self contained terrarium of her and Oliver, she didn’t realize that everyone was paying attention to them. 

“I punched you, Oliver! Totally whacked you in the face. And I have full faith that Felicity could break a nose or two if she wanted.”

Moira and Walter looked on with a touch of exasperation as the others tried to remind Tommy that he wasn’t the most  _ coordinated _ of people. 

Raisa, a name Felicity knew well from the stories Thea and Tommy have told her, entered the room with a huge serving plate that she placed into the center of the table. 

A round table, and family style serving. It was just so...normal. Thea gave the impression that she grew up in a very sterile environment. Although, Thea also said that Walter brought out something amazing and caring in her mother. Whatever the situation, Felicity was glad that she didn’t have to behave like she was dining with a queen when she was having dinner with the Queens. 

“Felicity, darling,” Moira called across to her. “Just dig in. If any of these animals give you trouble, a little jab of the fork does wonders.”

Thea laughed lightly. “Go ahead with you fork, I’ve got a knife.”

Moira tutted at her daughter. “At attempt at hospitality would be very much appreciated.”

Thea’s face contorted instantly. “I’m sorry, am I in a fever dream right now? Felicity threatened bodily harm on Ollie two minutes ago and everyone was cool, and just now you told her to stab not only your own children but other guests as well. Why am I getting scolded?”

“We just like Felicity better,” Oliver supplied with a shrug.

“Oh, I’ll bet you do.” Thea’s little remark was nowhere near a whisper. 

Oliver could only smile and nod at his sister provokingly, while Felicity sat quietly, eyes on her plate, wishing that the floor would swallow her whole.

There would absolutely not be a Best Friend of the Year award going on Thea’s mantle this year.

“I suddenly understand why it’s taken so long to get Felicity to join us for dinner. Any escape from those two is a pleasant one,” Walter said with a kind smile, trying to defuse the situation.

Felicity kept an eye on Thea. While Walter may be a diffuser, Thea was a fusing specialist. Able to make an absolute bomb out of any situation. World class agitation machine. Instigator extraordinaire. A shit stirrer.

Felicity looked for any hint that Thea’s mouth may open with something stupid, but it didn’t. She only gave a small laugh- small, but genuine- and popped some food in her mouth. 

Crisis averted it seemed. Felicity really didn’t give Thea enough credit. She turned to smile at her best friend when from her other side, a voice perked up.

“Believe me, this isn’t the worst dinner she’s been to all week,” Tommy told the group. 

He couldn’t have been talking about her meal with Greg. It was impossible. One: because why would he bring that up at his pseudo-family’s dinner? And Two: because it was lunch. Totally different meal. 

She almost felt the need to remind him that Greg only got lunch out of her. But knowing Tommy the little bit she did made her realize that she shouldn’t engage in the conversation. If she wanted to avoid the topic of her non-dating meal sharing life, she would have to bring his attention elsewhere.

Instead of a calm, “Yeah, that cold chicken parm on Wednesday really did suck!” that Felicity planned on dropping, Thea decided to swoop in and defend her honor.

“It was lunch, if you’ll remember correctly,” she told Tommy, in no way noticing the pleading looks Felicity was beaming her way stronger than any lighthouse on Earth.

“And Greg Martin is so far off her radar, he might as well not exist. Made no impact on her life. Why are we still talking about him? He’s done.” 

“Greg Martin,” Moira asked, slightly scandalized. Felicity was sure that Moira wanted to follow her daughter’s lead and ditch any and all Greg conversations, but apparently the displeasure that Greg brought to everyone couldn’t be passed quietly and politely.

Recognition passed Laurel’s face. “Oh, was he the whatshisface Tommy mentioned?”

Walter raised his glass towards Moira. “At least now we can be sure we aren’t the worst company.”

Felicity in no way  _ wanted _ to look at Oliver’s face, but she did anyway because of the same logic behind people being unable to look away from a train wreck. 

Instead of pity, or confusion, or even slight disgust, his face was filled with mirth. 

He gave her a playful nudge. “Greg Martin is a whole lot to compete with. I better up my game.”

“There’s no competition,” she insisted. Remembering, yet again that they were not the only ones at the table, Felicity tried to clarify what happened.

“I bumped into his sister Melissa,” Felicity explained to the remainder of the table who hadn’t heard the terrible saga. She continued on, “I may have mentioned once or twice that I was going alone to the library function. Melissa insisted that I meet with her brother for lunch, and because I knew nothing about him, I agreed. Big mistake.” 

There was a harmony of grunting agreement from the crowd. 

Thea raised her hand. “I’ll be hosting a Throw Brussels Sprouts At All Martins event at the fundraiser if anyone’s interested.” 

Roy nearly gagged. “Why are they serving Brussels sprouts there?”

“I’m not sure if they are, but I want to specifically chuck some sprouts at them. I’ll bring them if I have to.”

“You can load up my purse,” Laurel offered, helpfully.

“Your loyalty is admirable, Thea, but please don’t make a scene at a fundraiser,” Moira requested as if she heard that specific threat from her daughter before.

It was at this point that the entirety of the evening caught up with Felicity. Every bizarre  catastrophe that happened up until that point finally sunk in. Oliver breaking into her car. Jogging around a department store. Thea in general. She grew up in Vegas- she was supposed to be immune to ‘crazy’ antics- but these Starlingites were something else.

The dam burst and with it came the most disastrous case of giggles. Thankfully it was the contagious kind, and within seconds the table was filled with laughs.

When they all managed to settle down and continue with their meal, Oliver looked over her way. 

His face was still bright from laughing and she couldn’t help the adoring sigh forming in her chest. Stupid hotshot.

They continued dinner with no Greg talk at all. They even made it into dessert until Oliver managed to quietly bring up the whole situation again.

“So I take it that you don’t have a date to this library function.” 

“I didn’t get any appealing offers,” she told him. Even though she was ninety percent sure he was about to ask her if they could go together, she didn’t want to build her hopes up. 

Ever mindful of the family gathered around the table, each in their own conversation at the minute, Oliver ran his finger along her wrist. “I’ve been told I have a magnetic personality, if you’ll believe it.”

“I don’t believe that, actually. It sounds like an excuse made from a caffeine deprived nightmare.”

“Hey, don’t talk about her like that. She’s pretty fabulous.”

“I’ll bet.” Felicity sighed. He wasn’t outright asking for a date. What he was doing was dragging along slowly waiting for an outburst of some sort. He was going to make her ask, the prick.

Normally, just the thought of asking an attractive man like Oliver Queen out on a date would make her break out in hives. But here she was, on the verge of just blurting it out and somehow she really didn’t even care. This evening was a test on her ability to not give a shit about all the little things. All the homework was handed in. This was her final test. 

“You wanna come and hang on my arm at this thing? Fair warning, there may be a brussel sprout throwing maniac, a dull almost date to run into, and 58 vats of liquid word vomit I may drop on you there. But the payoff would be..” she paused, clearly not thinking this through. What the hell was the payoff? She couldn’t just throw around titles like, “The Best Dance Partner You’ll Ever Have” or “Most Outstanding Kisser”. The fuck did she have to offer besides an eventful (no guarantee on whether eventful lean on the side of being great or horrible) night and a drink from the open bar.

“The payoff would be us looking attractive and eating together,” Oliver finished for her. “And yes, that sounds perfect.”

Oliver couldn’t help but chuckle at the long shaky breath Felicity let out.

“Look at that. You asked me out with very little damage at all.” He seemed genuinely proud.

“And in front of everyone, too. That’s extra points.” 

From the corner of her eyes she could see Thea all but punching Roy in the leg out of excitement.

Felicity rolled her eyes. “Congratulations, your plan worked out. We’re going on a date. Go write it down in your diary.”

“They planned this,” Oliver asked. Ordinarily she would have been horrified over Oliver thinking that his actions were somehow orchestrated, but his voice sounded in awe.

“Somehow and some way, they did. I’m sure of it. This was their master plan and they succeeded.” Felicity had given up caring at this point. She was in a good mood. The laughing session she had earlier must have released some crazy amount of endorphins. That mixed in with the fact that she had a date with a cute guy really put her into a forgiving state of mind.

“I want to be annoyed,” Oliver told her genuinely, “but sometimes they’re pretty okay.”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Either that or we’re in some Stockholm Syndrome nightmare.”

Oliver draped his arm over her shoulder. “Can’t be Stockholm Syndrome,” he said confidently.

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” She snuggled up under the weight of his muscled limb, ready to hear him say something kind about his sister.

“Well for one, we’re in Starling.” He kissed her softly, a smile on both their faces. 

The whole town is nuts, but there’s no place she would ever want to be more than right here. Well, maybe not here, at this ridiculously cool round table, but here in general. With annoyingly pushy friends, a magnetically attractive man staring at her with heart eyes and plenty of delicious wine.

Starling Syndrome wasn't half bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a ride. And I hope you too can say, "Starling Syndrome, that wasn't half bad." Maybe not half good, but definitely not half bad. This story got so far away from me. I honestly don't remember where I even intended for this to go originally. Then I started to feel guilty that I couldn't update as often as I wanted. Lesson learned, next time that I venture into writing anything, I will absolutely have a better organizational system. 
> 
> Thanks so much for sticking through. You've all been so kind!!


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